


Time Spent in Los Angeles

by noussommeslessquelettes



Series: Throwback Playlist - A High School Klance AU [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Chatting & Messaging, College, Confessions, Crying, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Drinking, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, Happy Ending, IT'S HAPPY ENDING TIME, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Laith, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Queer Themes, References to Depression, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, klance, mostly done by me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 09:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13120503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noussommeslessquelettes/pseuds/noussommeslessquelettes
Summary: “Hey,” Lance said softly, a gentle smile crinkling his eyes once more, “it was great hearing from you, man. Any time you want to call, you know where I am.”Keith averted his eyes, nodding. “Thanks. It’s good to see you again.”“Same here.” He paused for a moment, then spoke up again. “It’s probably late for you, so I guess I’ll let you go now.”(College AU) Lance and Keith are so over stupid high school crushes… right?(wrong.)





	1. Fuzzy Blue Lights

**Author's Note:**

> IT’S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN DOO DOO DOOO DOOOOOOOO I can’t believe this is the last time I’m gonna say this, but welcome back to Throwback Playlist *starts crying already* thank you so much for being part of this wild ride, and I hope you enjoy everything this grand finale has to offer.
> 
> The fic title is brought to you by the band Dawes. It feels so klance to me hgfjfjkfd like esp canon klance? I'm wique. This chapter's title is brought 2 u by high school me's obsession with Owl City.
> 
> Again if this is the first time you’re seeing this series I urge you to start at the first part because plot and also SMOOCHES (it’s entitled My First Kiss Went a Little Like This for a reason~) and then there’s angst. And now there’s angst. WILL THEY GET THEIR HAPPY ENDING THO???? Idk guess you gotta reeeeeaaaaadddd!!!!
> 
> Uhh some warnings? I guess? The reclamatory use of slut-shaming words (although I’m very sex positive and they’re used accordingly,) underage drinking (that rly isn’t underage, like when I was in first year uni I was legally allowed to drink, come on America)--and again for my fellow emetophobes no vomiting whatsoever woooo. Mentions of awkward public boners.
> 
> Aight enough of me leggo

“Ugh guys,” Lance moaned into his pillow, “I’m  _ depressed _ .”

“Don’t you have a therapist who can deal with that?” Pidge replied drily.

Lance pulled up to rest on his elbows, lifting his head to level her with a pout. She didn’t bother to look up and return his gaze, electing instead to scribble something into the notebook that sat in front of her crossed legs on his bedroom floor.

“Not like  _ that _ ,” he insisted, “like—I mean—I have depression, but this is different!” He collapsed onto his stomach again, smushing his cheek into the bed.

Hunk shifted from his position against Lance’s nightstand, leaning forward to tap a pen thrice against Pidge’s knee. “I think he’s waiting for us to ask what’s wrong,” he stage-whispered.

Pidge huffed, eyes still rapidly scanning her notes. “Well  _ he _ doesn’t have a physics test tomorrow first period, so he can either be straightforward with what he needs or he can shut it.”

“Pidge,” Lance crooned, smirking into his sheets, “if you wanted me to tutor you, you could’ve just asked.”

That did actually make her look to him, her eyes narrowed in an unamused squint behind her huge glasses. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I can’t afford to break my perfect grade, and I think hearing you explain physics actually makes me dumber.”

Lance sneered at her. “Rude ass. I was smart enough to beat Keith—” his pained expression returned, and he turned his face to whine into the pillow once more. “Keeeeiiith…”

Hunk sighed. “Okay, Pidge? For the record I still think it’s really unhealthy for you to hold yourself to that mark until the semester ends, and we’ll talk about that later, but first I think we should deal with Lance’s problem before he devolves into full-on zombie sounds.”

“Too late,” Pidge mumbled under Lance’s continued caterwauling.

“Which means study time’s up,” Hunk prompted.

Pidge released a loud sigh before initiating the telltale  _ snap! _ of a book being slammed shut. “If I lose even a  _ half _ mark on the test tomorrow, it’s on both of your heads.”

Lance scoffed. “Even if you don’t get a perfect mark—which you will, because you literally know the class better than your teacher—you do realise you could just get Matt to hack into the system and change the grade, right?”

A pen bounced off his shoulder. “I’m insulted that you think I wouldn’t be able to do it myself!” She laughed.

“My mistake.” He smiled.

“Alright,” Hunk said, “so what’s going on with Keith? Did he text you or something?”

Lance’s smile faded as quickly as it’d appeared, and he turned to look at the two of them. “No, he  _ still _ hasn’t texted me—and, like, what’s up with that? We were friends, weren’t we? I cried, like, five times the day after he left—and I mean maybe that’s because I spent the whole summer dreaming about kissing him and holding his stupid hand and shit—but he can’t text me?”

“To be fair,” Pidge countered, “you haven’t texted him either.”

“Not true! I texted him to make sure he made it to school okay. And sure, he texted me back, but he can’t send me a ‘how’s it going’ once?”

“You know Keith,” Hunk admonished, “he doesn’t know how to start conversation. He’s probably just waiting for  _ you _ to text him.”

“But what would I even say?” Lance rolled over onto his back, holding a hand out to his ceiling as though demanding it give an answer. “‘Hey dude, hope it’s going well, by the way I’m in love with you’?”

“Maybe leave the second part for a few texts in,” Pidge joked.

“Is this what’s got you down, Lance?”

“Well no, not that in particular.” He dropped the hand, lacing both together atop his stomach. “You guys know what day it is?”

“Sunday?” Hunk tried.

“The twenty-second,” Pidge replied decisively.

“Yes!” Lance exclaimed, holding a hand out to her. “AKA the day before the twenty-third.”

“Well I’ll be—Hunk, did  _ you _ teach him how to count?”

“ _ AKA _ ,” Lance continued, unabated, “the day before Keith’s birthday. In less than three hours, he’ll be eighteen—officially an adult—and any hopes of getting him back to this side of the country before he outgrows the Shiroganes are dashed.”

“Wait—hang on,” Hunk held up a hand, “you haven’t texted him since September, right?”

Lance propped himself up on his elbows, lifting an eyebrow at his best friend. “Yeah?”

“As in,” Pidge continued, looking equally surprised, “you haven’t texted him ‘happy birthday’ yet?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Texting the day before is super tacky. You know I send it right at midnight, you’ve been getting my happy birthday texts for  _ years _ !”

“Lance,” she deadpanned.

“Pidge,” he returned, matching her tone.

“Timezone.”

Lance furrowed his brow. “Time… z—oh  _ shit _ .” He shot up to sit, twisting back-and-forth to furiously pat down his rumpled sheets for his phone.

“Night stand,” Hunk informed calmly, holding the phone out for him once he caught Lance’s eye.

Lance snatched it immediately, mistyping his passcode twice before managing to unlock it. “Why didn’t you guys tell me?!”

“I honestly thought you’d remember first,” Hunk insisted. “Birthday texts are your thing; you  _ never _ miss a midnight birthday text!”

“Well they were until now!” Lance whined, opening his text conversation with Keith and rushing the message out.

**[Lance:** HAPPY BIRTHDAY **]**

He released his breath in a heavy groan as he threw himself onto his back, pressing his phone to chest with one hand and throwing the other arm over his eyes. Keith was likely already in bed now, fast asleep. “Oh my God, he probably thinks I’m a total jerk who forgets birthdays, and—”

His phone buzzed. Immediately he swiped it unlocked, praying the message would be from—

**[Keith:** Wow thanks **]**

**[Keith:** Thought you forgot **]**

**[Lance:** Me??? Forget??? How could I ever forget my dear friend Kevin **]**

**[Lance:** Besides I’m early for your /actual/ birthday, since it’s not midnight over here anyway. Hope you’re having fun on your fake early birthday rn tho **]**

**[Lance:** How does it feel to no longer be the baby of our friend group btw? **]**

**[Lance:** Baby Keith’s all grown up :’) **]**

**[Keith:** I’m still older than pidge omfg **]**

**[Lance:** Don’t think so?? I mean pidge;s bday is in april, and urs is october,.. Ik maths hard for little babies but trust us grownups on this **]**

“So… problem solved?” Pidge ventured.

“Hm? Yeah sure,” Lance replied mindlessly, biting back a goofy smirk as Keith predictably rose to Lance’s bait, texts now flying between the two of them.

“I’m going back to studying,” Pidge muttered.

“Nope, sorry,” Hunk decided. “Studying is ov—hey, get off!” There was a thunk somewhere to Lance’s side, followed by grunts of struggle that went ignored. “Lance, a little help? I—Pidge, put the pen down!” He shrieked.

* * *

 

Lance stared into his all-but-bare page of notes, eyes fixed to the paper for so long the lines began to lift off the page, jittering in his vision. He shut his eyes, massaging fingers into them as his mind desperately evaded every single word coming from the lecturer’s mouth—Professor Smythe might be a kickass dude to talk with about life but even  _ he _ couldn’t make Lance interested in early twentieth century American poetry this early on a Friday morning.

Reflexively he reached for his phone, opening his messages and contemplating who to text. Idly he swept the list up-and-down, wondering if he should just click on a random chat and roll with it. Then he saw it: a group chat left unused for months. His lips curled into a smile as he opened the window and typed.

**[Groupchat: Area 69]**

**[Lance:** Alright everyone contest time, most embarrassing thing you’ve done this week. Hunk you start **]**

He set the phone next to his notebook, barely containing a squeak of glee when the screen lit up with the reply mere moments later.

**[Hunk:** Okay **]**

**[Hunk:** Uhh **]**

**[Hunk** : I accidentally drove in the exit of a drive thru instead of the entrance **]**

**[Lance:** Ehh pretty tame **]**

**[Pidge:** How??? **]**

_ Alright, Pidge and Hunk coming through, just waiting on one more… _

**[Hunk:** It was… really early. Really dark. **]**

**[Hunk:** The poor kid at the window was just as confused as I was that we were on the wrong sides of each other **]**

**[Keith:** Did you at least get your food **]**

Lance almost jumped in his seat, grinning down at his phone.  _ The gang’s back, all thanks to yours truly! _ He gave himself a mental pat on the back.

**[Hunk:** Well that’s the worst part, I was trying to get to my lab **]**

**[Hunk:** Did I mention it was really, really early? **]**

**[Lance:** Good grief ok yea I accept ur submissin **]**

**[Pidge:** Alright me next **]**

**[Pidge:** I found Matt’s old ffnet account **]**

**[Lance:** W HAT **]**

**[Lance:** First of all that’s not embarrassing that’s incredible **]**

**[Lance:** Second SHARE SHARE SHARE PLS **]**

**[Pidge:** Oh trust me when u read it you’ll know it’s embarrassing **]**

**[Pidge:** Keith you’ll be happy to hear Shiro was his beta **]**

**[Keith:** Sweet hell **]**

**[Lance:** Pidge u can’t do this **]**

**[Lance:** Slander the good name of my childhood hero **]**

**[Lance:** And poor Matt too what did he ever do to u **]**

**[Pidge:** He’s my older brother and he wrote Naruto fanfic, apparently without a spellchecker. Or eyes. **]**

**[Keith:** Shiro caught slacking **]**

**[Lance:** HeyoOO **]**

**[Hunk:** Wait was that what you were snapping me last night? **]**

**[Keith:** What happened to you blindly defending him lance **]**

**[Hunk:** I thought it was some kinda avant garde internet meme **]**

**[Lance:** You actually said something funny for once **]**

**[Pidge:** It should be tbh **]**

**[Pidge:** Some of it’s like my immortal quality fr **]**

**[Lance:** Which I maintain was real and not a troll fic!!!!!!!!! **]**

**[Hunk:** Bud **]**

**[Pidge:** Dude **]**

**[Lance:** CMON GUYS **]**

**[Keith:** She literally came out and said it was fake **]**

**[Lance:** You guys just don’t want to admit that there’s real magic in the world **]**

**[Lance:** Anyways queef ur uo **]**

**[Lance:** *up **]**

**[Keith:** I think I’ve got this one in the bag **]**

**[Keith:** Wanted to make a blt but I was missing the tomatoes so I substituted them with ketchup **]**

**[Lance:** Oh my god **]**

**[Hunk:** KEITH HIW COULD YOU **]**

**[Pidge:** HHAHAHA WHAT THE FUCK **]**

**[Pidge:** I think you should warn hunk before u say that kinda shit **]**

**[Lance:** That sounds DISGUSTING **]**

**[Lance:** But more importantly **]**

**[Lance:** How in the hell are u making bacon in a college dorm do u even own a pan **]**

**[Keith:** No??? Costco bacon **]**

**[Lance:** ??? EXPLAIN???? **]**

**[Keith:** Costco sells precooked bacon that u just have to microwave **]**

**[Hunk:** I’m crying and dying **]**

**[Lance:** SWEET BABY JESUS MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED??? BACON AT MY FINGERTIPS IN A MATTER OF MERE MOMENTS **]**

**[Hunk:** HANG ON KEITH GOES TO COSTCO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT **]**

**[Lance:** OMG YES U SEDUCED ME WITH YOUR MEAT AT FIRSY KEITH BUT YOU CANNOT DISTRACT ME FROM THIS SHOCKING REVELATION **]**

**[Keith:** Why do I talk to you people **]**

**[Pidge:** So Keith do all the soccer moms in your carpool have a Costco card or is it just you **]**

**[Lance:** HEYYOOOOOOO **]**

**[Hunk:** Rt tho I think Keiths the only one of us hardcore enough to survive Costco **]**

**[Hunk:** I’ve helped pick up groceries with my dad a couple times and it’s a goddamn battlefield out there **]**

**[Keith:** I’m not gonna lie I think I’ve run over like five old ladies already **]**

**[Keith:** It’s survival of the fittest **]**

**[Lance:** Alright so Keiths currently in the lead but even if you include the Costco membership reveal I still come out on top y’all mothertruckers ready for this **]**

**[Lance:** We were watching a movie in my intro to sexuality course and it had non simulated sex scenes **]**

**[Lance:** Ok no that’s misleading it was like two hours of nonstop sex with like five minutes of dialogue spread out along it **]**

**[Pidge:** Do I wanna read this **]**

**[Lance:** I’ll spare you the details pidgey dw **]**

**[Hunk:** I think I already know where this is going **]**

**[Keith:** Please tell me you didn’t leave your jizz on the chair or something for the janitor to clean up **]**

**[Lance:** HDNCKXJA NO OMG??? IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK HAPPENED HET UR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER JEITH **]**

**[Keith:** ? What did you mean then? **]**

**[Lance:** I just got hard jeez **]**

**[Hunk:** That’s it? **]**

**[Pidge:** Dude that’s not that big a deal **]**

**[Keith:** Literally happens to everyone with a dick at some point **]**

**[Pidge:** Ye **]**

**[Lance:** Ugh just lemme finish my story **]**

**[Lance:** So at the end everyone’s packing up and leaving like it’s no big deal **]**

**[Lance:** Meanwhile I’m there packin some serious heat trying to desperately think of like my dads ear hair or whatever I can to get it down **]**

**[Lance:** Also trying to not look like I’m the only person trying to fight down a boner **]**

**[Lance:** Then suddenly because I’ve probs got biphobic ancestors tryna punish me the HOTTEST piece of ass on campus decides right then and there to acknowledge my existence for the first time ever **]**

**[Lance:** Askin me all these questions about the next assignment acting casual like I haven’t been thinking of licking his abs since the first class of the semester **]**

**[Lance:** Asks me where my next class is and finds out we’re headed the same way but I’ve still got a partial that Chad McDreamyeyes is totally oblivious to **]**

**[Lance:** Which btw he is not HELPING **]**

**[Pidge:** How can one person be so thirsty **]**

**[Lance:** Achilles has his heel, I have my raging bisexuality **]**

**[Lance:** It’s a blessing and a curse, really **]**

**[Hunk:** That’s not how the myth goes, the heels just a weakness **]**

**[Lance:** Point!!! Is!!! I have a hot guy showing interest and a stiffy that’s not going away so I got desperate **]**

**[Lance:** I grabbed a textbook and did my best to subtly cover my junk with it **]**

**[Lance:** Unfortunately I was less than subtle. He caught on immediately and starts like freaking out **]**

**[Pidge:** Hahahaha omfg no **]**

**[Lance:** Poor guy doing his best to pretend he didn’t catch on and looking everywhere other than my crotch **]**

**[Lance:** Doesn’t help that I’m making an ass of myself trying to act casual too **]**

**[Lance:** Balancing trying to be flirty while trying to get rid of a boner that the both of us and now probably the whole school is aware of **]**

**[Keith:** Oh my god or you could just try being normal for once **]**

**[Lance:** LISTEN KEITH IF YOU SAW THIS GUY YOUD UNDERSTAND WHY I CANT **]**

**[Lance:** This was my first chance with him and after that definitely my last **]**

**[Lance:** I mean I’m 90% sure he’s straight but now I’m 100% sure he won’t ever be able to look me in the eye again. La fin **]**

**[Keith:** So your story was u were awkward and got rejected? I thought that was just a daily occurrence for you **]**

**[Pidge:** B U R N **]**

**[Hunk:** *airhorn noises* **]**

**[Lance:** Oh fuck you keith aND DONT USE THE AIRHORNS AGAINST ME HUNK **]**

**[Hunk:** It’s true that’s not even your most embarrassing rejection Lance **]**

**[Lance:** I’m calling my mom on all of u sinners **]**

**[Pidge:** K but with that said… I’m still gonna give this to Lance, his was the most embarrassing **]**

**[Keith:** What?? No way **]**

**[Lance:** BOOYAH BITCHES **]**

**[Hunk:** Yeah I dunno how u figure that Pidge **]**

**[Keith:** So it’s two against two **]**

**[Lance:** No it’s not this was never a vote so I still win because I say so **]**

**[Pidge:** Listen for as tame as his story was he still had the most witnesses of all **]**

**[Pidge:** Ergo he was embarrassed the most **]**

**[Lance:** Tame?? **]**

**[Hunk:** I bet Matt had more readers than Lance had witnesses though **]**

**[Pidge:** Yeah but he can’t be identified by them **]**

**[Hunk:** Fair enough **]**

**[Lance:** HELL YEAH SUCK IT KEITH **]**

**[Keith:** Alright congratulations for your awkward public boner story Lance **]**

**[Lance:** How my ass taste probably better than ur ketchup blt **]**

“You’re Keith, right?”

The sudden question pops Keith’s bubble of isolation, yanking him back into reality, and the small lecture hall in which he currently sat. He jerks his head up to the source, mouth agape as he met the gaze of…

Okay, Keith’s going to be honest: he has  _ no idea _ what this girl’s name is. Yeah, they were two months into classes, and yeah, this course had a maximum of about thirty other people, but Keith was never really good at names in the first place.

Keith did recognise  _ her _ , though. Obviously they shared Intro to Spanish, but also he’d seen her around the campus from time to time—he was pretty sure she lived in his residence building, as a matter of fact. She was the kind of person who didn’t cut a terribly imposing figure, but carried herself in a curt, commanding manner that could make an impenetrable college student crowd part in moments.

And that ferocity was currently focused unerringly on him as she bore bright eyes down at him over his tiny desk, arms folded across her chest as she shifted impatiently on her feet, waiting for his answer.

“Y-yeah,” he replied, fighting the urge to cover up his cellphone like a school child might when caught texting by their teacher.

“I’m Allura,” she elaborated, her disapproving mask unyielding. When he didn’t venture to respond she cocked an eyebrow, huffing. “You weren’t listening to what the professor said right now, were you?”

He risked a quick glance over her shoulder, finding only a blank chalkboard and a vacated podium. “I… might’ve missed it.” In his hands, his phone buzzed guiltily.

She gave a disapproving sigh, rounding to drop into the empty desk beside him. “We’re partnering up for the dialogue assignment, and all other partner marks for the year.”

Keith frowned at her. “I don’t remember her ever saying anything about group marks.”

She gave a pointed look to his vibrating phone, pulling a notebook out of her bag. “ _ Somehow _ I’m not surprised.”

He bit his tongue, cheeks burning. “Look I don’t like group assignments either; we can just ask her to do it by ourselves if it bugs you that much.”

“You really don’t understand how a dialogue works, do you?” She clicked her pen harshly, immediately beginning to scribble her work across the blank note paper. “I’m fine to work with you, I just want it to be clear that I will not be busting my ass doing double the work for a general credit.”

_ What does she take me for, a slacker?  _ “I’ll do my part,” Keith promised.

_ Buzz buzz! _

“… and I’ll turn my phone off,” he added, guiltily swiping away the new notifications (wherein Pidge seemed to be yelling at Lance about alternating currents or something of the like) and pulling up the sound profiles, setting it to ‘silent.’

* * *

 

**[New Message: Area 69]**

**[Lance:** Ugh I really wanna get someone prego **]**

**[Pidge:** UM **]**

**[Keith:** No preamble just going right for it **]**

**[Hunk:** Please tell me that’s a typo **]**

**[Lance:** No like look **]**

**[Lance:** U guys know maury povich right **]**

**[Pidge:** That just makes this ten times worse **]**

**[Lance:** JUST HEAR ME OUT OMG **]**

**[Hunk:** All in favor of… not doing that? **]**

**[Pidge:** Aye **]**

**[Keith:** Me too **]**

**[Lance:** Listen being one of those dads on maury is my calling **]**

**[Lance:** I’m stubborn, I’m dramatic, I’m loud and I love attention **]**

**[Pidge:** For once I have to say he’s right **]**

**[Lance:** THANK YOU!!! It’s good to be supported for once **]**

**[Pidge:** Oh no don’t mistake this for support **]**

**[Lance:** Rude just as I was gonna offer u be my baby mama **]**

**[Hunk:** Oh boy rip lance **]**

**[Pidge:** Alright firstly that couldn’t happen **]**

**[Pidge:** Second that wouldn’t happen **]**

**[Pidge:** Third if you ever tried I would kill you **]**

**[Lance:** GHJHFGJK no not like that **]**

**[Lance:** You’d just need to PRETEND I knocked you up **]**

**[Lance:** It’s not like they’d check **]**

**[Hunk:** That’s literally the point of the show bud **]**

**[Pidge:** No u know what I’ll bite **]**

**[Pidge:** Say we go through with this, where on earth would we get a baby to test? Seeing as though neither of us currently own one **]**

**[Lance:** We just gotta find a kid that doesn’t have parents boom **]**

**[Lance:** OMG KEITH BE OUR BABY **]**

**[Hunk:** LANCE NO **]**

**[Pidge:** KILLER timing with the orphan card lance **]**

**[Lance:** Aw c’mon it’s been long enough, ur not still sore over it right queef **]**

**[Keith:** I don’t even know how to answer that **]**

**[Hunk:** Don’t **]**

**[Lance:** Keith please be pidges and my baby **]**

**[Hunk:** Are we just gonna totally ignore how Pidge is white and lance is latino and somehow they made an asian baby **]**

**[Pidge:** Well now I /know/ I failed my bio test **]**

**[Lance:** Ur all being so difficult all I wanna be is Keith’s daddy **]**

**[Lance:** NO **]**

**[Pidge:** HAHAHAAHA **]**

**[Keith:** … **]**

**[Lance:** FORGET I SAID THAT **]**

**[Hunk:** Bound to happen tbh I was just waiting for it **]**

**[Pidge:** So Keith what do u say want lance to be ur daddy **]**

**[Keith:** I can’t read anymore **]**

**[Lance** : I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT **]**

**[Pidge:** Hunk do you know what I enjoy most **]**

**[Hunk:** No Pidge, what’s that? **]**

**[Pidge:** Watching these two idiots flounder **]**

**[Hunk:** I couldn’t agree more **]**

**[Keith:** You’re so cruel **]**

**[Lance:** Devils the both of them **]**

**[Keith:** You don’t get to complain ur the one who started this bullshit! **]**

**[Lance:** HURTFUL **]**

**[Hunk:** Keith don’t talk to ur father in that tone!!! **]**

**[Pidge:** Yeah or he might have to punish you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) **]**

**[Hunk:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) **]**

* * *

 

The second conversation Keith had with Allura went markedly better than their first. Though they’d appeared to start off the wrong foot two weeks ago (Keith would admit his inattentivity was partially to blame, and Allura would take responsibility for ‘having to work on her diplomacy skills’), they managed to be fairly civil and even—dare Keith say—friendly.

Allura had taken command of Keith’s desk immediately upon being let into his tiny single dorm, and Keith had elected to perch himself on the bay window directly next to the desk chair, pulling his knees up to serve as a makeshift writing surface for his own workbook. They’d both agreed to skim the vocabulary for the assignment, ensuring each had a definition before they decided which words would be easiest for them to say without fucking up the pronunciation.

“What’s your major?” Allura asked, disrupting their quiet page-flipping and scribbling. Keith glanced over to her, but her eyes remained glued to her book. She was extending an olive branch—a fresh start that Keith was rarely ever afforded when he botched the first impression—and he seized it.

“Sociology,” he answered, “you?”

“Political science. So what made you choose to take Spanish?”

Keith shrugged. “Needed the language credit.”

She spared him a quick sidelong glance before flipping to her workbook’s answer key. “We all do, I was just curious if there was any reason you chose Spanish in particular.”

“Oh, well,” he lowered his gaze to his book, “I have a bit of practice with it. I had a friend in high school who speaks it at home, so I picked up a few things.” 

She nodded. “Where do you live?”

He flicked his gaze back to her. “Here, now. I’ll be finding an apartment nearby in the summer, or something, but I’m… I moved up here when I started school.” Confusion wrinkled in her brow, and Keith took a bracing breath.  _ Alright, here comes the pity parade _ . “I was in the foster system before that, so I was kind of bounced around from place-to-place.” He aimed for nonchalance, praying she wouldn’t latch onto it.

She gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose your parents, it’s far from an ideal childhood.” She turned back to her notes. “Luckily for me, I was adopted by my uncle in America after my father passed, and he’s been as much of a parent as anyone could be.”

Keith’s eyes widened. “Oh, so you’re not an international student?” She sent him a dry look. “I-I just—I mean with the accent…” he rubbed the back of his neck meekly.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve heard that question over the last two years. It gets tiring to explain after a while—”

_ Buzz buzz! _

Keith paled at the sound, glancing in horror to his phone resting between him and his study partner. “Shit, sorry.” He scrambled for it. “Could’ve sworn I turned the damn thing off—”

She chuckled lightly. “It’s fine—honestly, I think we’ve done more than enough work to earn a break.” She leaned back in the chair, pulling out her own phone.

He stilled a few moments, ensuring she was serious, before he turned his attention back to the new message.

**[Lance:** Ho’s it going? **]**

A new text came in right that moment.

**[Lance:** And no that’s not a typo **]**

**[Lance:** I’m in the middle of a dry spell and I’m thirsty af **]**

**[Lance:** So please tell me uve had some action I need to hear about it **]**

**[Keith:** Sorry I’ve got nothing **]**

**[Lance:** No way don’t lie to me man **]**

**[Keith:** I’ve been busy as hell with school and work I don’t have time for that shit **]**

**[Lance:** Keith ur supposed to be my ho friend!!! **]**

**[Lance:** We’re supposed to dish and talk ho shit together!!!!!!!!! **]**

**[Keith:** Okay then why don’t you go hook up with people and tell me about it?? **]**

**[Lance:** You don’t think I’ve been trying who do you think ur talking to keith???? **]**

“You must have a lot of friends texting you,” Allura remarked lightly.

**[Lance:** What happened to the Keith I knew in hs, king of spin the bottle **]**

Keith locked the phone, glancing at Allura. “I don’t, it’s just—”

_ Buzz buzz! _

He rolled his eyes, unlocking the phone again.

**[Lance:** The hero America needs right now **]**

**[Keith:** Literally no one called me that. Besides I was never even that into party shit back then **]**

“Girlfriend?” Allura asked.

Keith snorted, nodding towards the rainbow flag he’d hung over his bed on the wall opposite her—a parting gift from Lance that came with the message ‘because this is easier than marching a parade.’

(Sidenote: how did Lance manage to make even their  _ arguments  _ seem like fond memories? Unfair.)

**[Lance:** U can’t lie to me I was there!! U def get way more action than me anyway **]**

**[Keith:** You also had a gf for almost half that time **]**

“Right—didn’t see that—boyfriend, then?”

Keith’s fingers stilled mid-message, heart skipping a beat. “No.”

Damn, you’d think after almost three months he’d be over it. He finished off the message.

**[Keith:** I haven’t even gotten laid since frosh week **]**

Allura kicked her feet up on the desk. “You’re not missing much, I can assure you. I’ve had experience in both, it’s not often worth the hassle.”

Keith’s phone stayed surprisingly silent for once. He resisted the urge to check his network connection, instead focusing on replying to Allura.

“I know what you mean, I once swore of guys in high school.”

“‘Once’? What happened?”

He gave a pained grimace. “The captain of the hockey team, that’s what happened. I lasted less than a month,” he admitted, dropping his gaze meekly.

She snorted. “Happens to the best of us, Keith.”

He looked up, giving her a shy smile. His phone buzzed again.

**[Lance:** Knew you were holding out. So, deets? **]**

* * *

**[New Message: Lance]**

**[Lance:** Merry Christmas! **]**

**[Keith:** Are u ever gonna remember the timezone difference **]**

**[Keith:** Also merry xmas **]**

**[Lance:** KJGKJDF I KEEP FORGETTING **]**

**[Lance:** Did I wake u up u gotta turn ur phone on silent or smth man **]**

**[Keith:** I was still up **]**

**[Lance:** ??? Isn’t it like 3 in the morning over there dude **]**

**[Keith:** Yeah it’s 3 **]**

**[Keith:** Well past it now but **]**

**[Lance:** Wtf are u still doing up lmao **]**

**[Keith:** Netflix **]**

**[Keith:** Shiro still lets me use his account **]**

**[Lance:** Who on god’s green earth will ever be as good as Shiro **]**

**[Lance:** OH BEFORE I FORGET **]**

**[Lance:** He and his fam wanna know if u got ur present in the mail **]**

**[Keith:** They sent me a present? **]**

**[Lance:** We all did. You didn’t get it? **]**

**[Keith:** I haven’t checked the mail **]**

**[Lance:** CHECK IT OMG BEFORE HUNK’S COOKIES GO BAD **]**

**[Lance:** Oh fuvk **]**

**[Lance:** Wait don’t read that it was supposed to be a surprise pretend I never said anything **]**

**[Keith:** You guys got me presents? **]**

**[Lance:** Maybe, maybe not. Guess you’ll have to look for yourselffff **]**

**[Keith:** You didn’t have to get me anything **]**

**[Lance:** It’s xmas dude, of course we did **]**

**[Keith:** I didn’t get you guys anything **]**

**[Lance:** Don’t sweat it, it’s abt giving not getting **]**

**[Lance:** Plus I bet ur tryna save up all the money you have **]**

**[Lance:** The shipping’s a bitch it would’ve bankrupted u lmao **]**

**[Keith:** You guys really shouldn’t have **]**

**[Lance:** Aight I’ll let everyone know you say thank you **]**

**[Keith:** Shit yeah. Probably should’ve led with that **]**

**[Lance:** It’s all good I knew what u meant. I’m fluent in Keith B) **]**

**[Keith:** Thanks **]**

**[Lance:** K I bet the post office won’t be open on xmas at 3am so go to bed Keith ur gonna be dead in the morning **]**

**[Keith:** It’s fine, I don’t have plans. Tbh I haven’t woken up a single day before noon since finals ended **]**

**[Lance:** Oops that can’t be healthy **]**

**[Keith:** You sound like shiro **]**

**[Lance:** Damn if only I could LOOK like shiro tho **]**

**[Lance:** Ok but also if u stay up santa won’t bring u any presents!!! **]**

**[Lance:** And u can’t have that **]**

**[Keith:** Hate to break this to you but santa isn’t real **]**

**[Lance:** WH **]**

**[Lance:** I CANT **]**

**[Lance:** KEITH HOW DARE YOU SPREAD THESE LIES **]**

**[Lance:** I’ll have you know I saw santa at the mall just the other day **]**

**[Lance:** Ik u were born an old dude benjamin button style but u can’t tell me u never sat on santa’s lap and told him ur xmas list **]**

**[Keith:** Never. There’s a lot of laps I’ve wanted to sit in and santa’s wasn’t one of them **]**

**[Lance:** OMG YESSS YES THOT KEITH ALERT **]**

**[Keith:** I immediately regret this **]**

**[Lance:** NO PLS **]**

**[Lance:** Thot Keith is my fave Keith **]**

**[Lance:** Thot Keith is my santa claus **]**

**[Lance:** Ok wait I have a question **]**

**[Lance:** So like u know how strippers give lap dances **]**

**[Keith:** K I’m gonna stop you right there **]**

**[Lance:** Would a santa stripper GET the lap dance then??? **]**

**[Lance:** Bc u can’t have santa on the lap **]**

**[Lance:** Doesn’t make sense **]**

**[Keith:** Why the fuck were you even thinking about that **]**

**[Lance:** Santa, laps, lap dances. Keep up keith **]**

**[Lance:** What else was I supposed to think **]**

**[Keith:** Literally anything else **]**

**[Lance:** Aight but like what’s ur answer is santa giving or getting the lap dance **]**

**[Keith:** Can’t believe I’m typing this but giving **]**

**[Lance:** NO WAY **]**

**[Keith:** Who would pay to give a lap dance? **]**

**[Keith:** I mean who would pay for a santa stripper in the first place **]**

**[Lance:** U know there are ppl who find santa sexy it’s not our place to judge **]**

**[Lance:** Hell just think about santa baby **]**

**[Keith:** I’d really rather not **]**

**[Lance:** Sugar daddy santa **]**

**[Keith:** You mention the daddy kink so much at this point I have to assume you have one **]**

**[Lance:** OH MY GOD THAT’S ENOUGH WERE DONE WITH THIS **]**

**[Keith:** Go to bed lance **]**

**[Lance:** Go to bed lance yourself **]**

**[Keith:** You actually have something to do tomorrow morning **]**

**[Lance:** I’m not going to bed until you do **]**

**[Keith:** How are u gonna know **]**

**[Lance:** When u stop answering my texts **]**

**[Keith:** I could just start ignoring you **]**

**[Lance:** Mmmmm nah u couldn’t, I’m too irresistible~ **]**

**[Lance:** Keith? **]**

**[Keith:** …… I was brushing my teeth **]**

**[Lance:** SUCCESS **]**

**[Keith:** Your turn **]**

**[Lance:** Jokes on u I’ve been in bed the entire time!!!! **]**

**[Lance:** I played you like a goddamn fiddle boi **]**

**[Keith:** Tis the season to be petty **]**

**[Lance:** FALALALALAAAAALALALALAAAAAAAAAA **]**

**[Lance:** Also screenshotting because that’s like the third??? Joke uve ever told me **]**

**[Lance:** Xmas really is the time for miracles **]**

**[Keith:** Okay now I’m actually going to bed **]**

**[Lance:** Gn gn **]**

**[Keith:** Nite **]**

* * *

 

_ Buzz buzz! _

Keith moaned, pulling the pillow out from under his cheek and resituating it over his head, pulling it tight to try and block out any noise.

_ Buzz buzz! _

Keith was going to kill Lance, he swore it. After over two straight weeks of waking up at 2 P.M., he had not adjusted well to his first 8 A.M. class of the new term today. He wanted nothing more than to hide away from the bitter Pennsylvania winter in the safety and comfort of his sheets, and catch up on some well-needed sleep.

_ Buzz buzz! _

With a defeated groan he threw the pillow off—knocking something over in the process, but he’d deal with that once his second brain cell started up—and snatched the phone off the night stand, thinking of all the creative ways he could strangle the person on the other end.

**[New Message: Allura]**

Keith blinked, his anger immediately replaced with confusion. What was Allura doing texting him? They hadn’t even had their first Spanish class of the new year yet. He swiped it unlocked.

**[Allura:** Hey Keith **]**

**[Allura:** Happy New Year, by the way **]**

**[Allura:** Can you drive? **]**

That did little to remedy his confusion. He struggled to type his reply coherently, for once thankful for autocorrect.

**[Keith:** ? I don’t have a car **]**

**[Allura:** That’s not what I’m asking **]**

Keith rolled his eyes, dropping back to lie down, holding the phone over his face as he typed.

**[Keith:** Yeah like I have a license and shit **]**

**[Allura:** Excellent. I need you to meet me at Whalen and Heritage. You can catch the next 45 bus in five minutes to get here **]**

_ The… what? _

**[Keith:** Right now??? **]**

**[Allura:** Yes **]**

**[Allura:** If you’re in class leave, I’ll find someone to give you the notes on whatever you miss **]**

**[Keith:** I don’t have class but what’s going on **]**

**[Allura:** Have you left? **]**

Keith winced, sensing his warm nap slip right out from his grasp.

**[Keith:** Why do you need me to meet you? **]**

**[Allura:** Leave now so you don’t miss the bus. I’ll explain everything when you get here **]**

* * *

 

All further attempts to extract a solid answer from Allura had been just as fruitless. Even after telling her he’d already gotten on the bus, the only instruction he’d received was ‘text me when you get here.’

He didn’t really think the other bus patrons  _ deserved _ his icy glaring, but they certainly heeded it as enough warning to stay away from his seat until he disembarked. He stuffed gloved hands under his armpits as he ultimately stepped off, thankful he’d had enough sense to invest in good winter boots as he waded through the slush collecting on the curb.

“Alright Allura,” he muttered to himself as he scanned the intersection, “where the fuck do I go now?”

“Keith!” He heard her voice echo over from a distance, lifting his head and whipping around to find her. “Over  _ here _ ,” she continued, coming distinctly from… he turned to the south side, finally spotting her in as she stood in a parking lot, waving an arm to him. “Well don’t just stand there, come over!” She shouted, a distinct laugh lifting her tone.

His eyes automatically travelled to the fluorescent sign flashing above her head, reading: ‘ED’S USED CARS.’ He suddenly had a bad feeling about her evident enthusiasm.

Earning a horn from a transport truck (and returning the favour with a choice hand gesture) for his jaywalking, he quickly made his way over to the opposing lot, stuffing hands in his pockets as he frowned in the face of Allura’s jubilance.

“I did something,” she confessed, nearly coming out as a squeal behind steepled mittens. 

She quickly grabbed his sleeve in both hands, pulling him towards the tiny storefront in the centre of the lot. Upon entering the building they were greeted by a whoosh of warm air and the greedy smile of a potbellied car salesman—the infamous Ed, if his nametag was anything to go by.

“So! Are we ready to seal this deal?” He opened his arms to the pair, baring his teeth in a smile that felt more predatory to Keith than friendly.

Keith turned to Allura, the question unable to leave his tongue before Allura gave him his answer.

“I bought a car!” Her fingertips dug into his arm as she bounced on her toes. “My very first car!”

Keith glanced back to Ed, who waggled his eyebrows at him. “Uhh…” he stalled, turning back to Allura. “That’s… great? But why do you need me for that?”

Her cheer faltered, but only by a half-notch. “I don’t quite have my licence yet, so I needed someone who did to drive it back for me.”

“Why don’t you just get your licence then?”

“I…” she dropped her gaze, muttering the next words lightning-quick: “I don’t know how to drive.”

“You don’t know how to  _ drive _ ?” He exclaimed.

Her cheeks burned bright red as she frowned at him, and Keith suspected it wasn’t from the cold. “I never needed to learn, okay?”

“Wh—so then why buy a car if you can’t drive it?”

She snatched her hands back, folding them across her chest. “I need to get places, Keith! And the bus isn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

Ed jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “If the two of you need a minute, I’d be more than happy to—”

“No, we’re fine!” Allura insisted, sending a fearful jolt up Ed’s body. “Show us the car, we want to see it.”

Visibly willing his shoulders to relax, he pasted a polite smile across his face. “Let me, ah, get my coat then.”

* * *

“I’m not going to be your chauffeur, Allura,” Keith muttered, ducking his head as a chilly breeze swept in.

Their shoulders brushed as they followed Ed to the far end of the lot. “Of course not—you’ll teach me how to drive, and in the meantime I’ll just need occasional rides here and there. And so long as you agree to take care of gas, you’re welcome to use the car whenever necessary.”

Keith scrunched his nose. “Bullshit, I’m not paying to drive you places.”

She huffed. “I’m essentially buying us both a car, Keith,  _ and _ paying for the school parking.”

“That’s—wait, am I going to be the registered owner?” She gave him a puzzled look, as though she hadn’t thought of that. He groaned, gritting his teeth. “I don’t have the money to buy my own damn  _ bicycle _ , Allura, how the hell am I supposed to afford car insurance?”

She slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re overthinking this.”

“No, I think I’m thinking about this precisely the right amount for—”

“Here she is!” Ed interrupted their hushed conversation, turning towards them while gesturing with both arms to the car behind him.

Keith gaped at the car, then back to Allura, then to Ed.

“‘92 Caprice,” the dealer explained. “She still rides like a younger lady though, if you catch my drift.” He sent Keith an entirely unnecessary wink. “Four speeds, decent mileage, and we can have her fitted on brand new snows for you.”

Keith looked back to the car. “You’re fucking joking me.”

The car was bright pink. He was going to be driving around in a fucking bubblegum pink 1992 Chevy, assuming the rusty contraption didn’t fall apart the moment it rolled off Ed’s lot, that is.

Allura rounded on him, sending him a disapproving pout. “What’s the problem?”

He turned to her. “What’s—are you  _ blind _ ?! I’m not driving around in a pink car, Allura!”

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly? Is your ego so fragile you can’t drive a car because it’s a girly colour?”

“Ugh don’t make this—” he pinched his brow. “That’s not what this is about. This is about me driving around in what might as well be a fucking oversized easter egg.”

She stuck her chin out defiantly. “Well, guess what? I’m paying for it, and pink’s my favourite colour, so it’s my decision!” She waited a couple beats, then yielded begrudgingly. “Okay look: we get the pink, and you don’t have to pay for gas. Deal?”

He crossed his arms, giving her a sober nod. “Fine, deal.”

“Until after I learn to drive. Then, you pay gas money when you take it out.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Her stoic expression blossomed into a smile, and she turned to Ed. “Where do I sign?”

* * *

 

Keith nearly jumped out of his chair at the loud banging against his door.

“Keith! It’s Allura, open up now!”

He clutched at his heart, willing it to slow down long enough to let him catch his breath. When the hell was Allura going to start a conversation like a damn normal person? He rushed over to open the door, finding her wide-eyed and distraught on the other side of it.

“Have you checked the online class?” She asked immediately.

He furrowed his brow. “The… no. Wait, did she finally post the exam marks?” His blood suddenly ran cold—Allura’s expression didn’t inspire much confidence in him.

She nodded, pushing past him to sit on his bed. “Check it.”

He stood by the door, glancing between her and his computer on the desk. “I’m not sure I want to.”

She gave him a severe frown. “You’re not going to make this better by ignoring it. Trust me, you do.”

He relinquished, hanging his head as he shut the door. “Alright, here goes.” He went over to his desk, dropping heavily in his chair as he opened his browser to the course website.

“Well?” She prompted as he navigated towards the correct page.

“Hang on, I’ve got to—” he let the sentence fall with a hiss, hiding his face in his hands. “Great. I got a forty.”

“A forty?! Did you miss a page, Keith?”

He spun back to look at her. “No! Or, I mean, I don’t think so… wait, what did  _ you _ get then?”

She pursed her lips. “Fifty-four. And I’ve already asked, she doesn’t curve.”

“I don’t get it,” he muttered, “I thought I had that one in the bag.” He literally couldn’t afford this kind of drop in his GPA, his part-time job was barely covering his phone bill and groceries, there was no way he could lose his scholarship.

“I don’t understand how this happened, I’ve never gotten lower than a B in my life! How are we going to recover from this?”

He clicked the ‘X’ button on the browser, unable to bear the sight any longer. On his desktop four faces smiled back at him, dressed in prom attire against the backdrop of Lance’s living room, a bitter juxtaposition to the despair he felt right now.

And it gave him an idea.

“Wait, I think I can fix this.” He grabbed his cell and swiped it unlocked, heart racing as he opened the chat.

**[Keith:** Hey **]**

**[Keith:** You busy? **]**

The response was immediate, Keith nearly dropping the phone when it buzzed in his trembling hands.

**[Lance:** Not at all! **]**

**[Lance:** I’m just chillin **]**

**[Lance:** Wanna talk? **]**

**[Keith:** Can you skype me right now? **]**

**[Lance:** Yeah sure! **]**

**[Lance:** Gimme just a minute **]**

* * *

 

A whopping twenty minutes later, Keith’s computer chimed with the telltale Skype ringtone. Allura had remained suspiciously mum about finally meeting someone from Keith’s elusive past, but he relished the moments of relative peace before Lance would inevitably break them.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was practically bursting at the thought of calling Lance, of hearing his voice and seeing his beautiful, stupid face again.

“Took him long enough,” he muttered behind the failed stifling of a smile, clicking ‘accept’ on the video call.

As cheesy as it was, Keith’s breath literally caught at the first time he saw Lance in five months. Of course, he still looked gorgeous, practically glowing through the slightly pixellated video feed, wearing a handsome grin that made his eyes crinkle in the cutest way imaginable.

“Hey,” Keith managed, returning it with his own shy smile.

“Hey pal, good to see y—woah  _ hello _ !” Lance’s gaze deviated towards the side of the screen. Keith’s smile dropped, turning back to look at Allura. “Hi there,” Lance continued, voice as thick and sweet as honey, “the name’s Lance, and I’m guessing yours is ‘Perfect’?”

Keith turned back to Lance, who leaned casually and wore a lecherous grin. “Alright, bye Lance,” he said flatly, reaching up to slam the laptop shut.

“Waitwaitwait—Keith!” Lance’s hands flew out as if to halt him through the screen. He relaxed when Keith begrudgingly dropped the hand. “Okay, okay, I promise I’ll behave,” he laughed.

“Lance, this is Allura.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder to her, and saw her wave a hand in the window at the corner of the screen. “She’s my classmate for Intro to Spanish, and we were wondering if you could give us some help.”

Lance’s smile turned smug. He leaned back in his desk chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Oh, I knew this day would come. First I beat you in physics, now you’re coming to me for tutoring. Ready to admit which of us is the smartest yet?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Great to see you’ve kept your famed humility, Lance,” he deadpanned. “Now can you help us or not?”

He stretched his arms over his head, prominent collar bones poking out under his tank t— _ ugh Keith, focus! _ “I’m always ready to help out a beautiful lady.”

Allura groaned her disdain at Lance’s comportment, standing up from the bed and sidling up to Keith. “Scooch,” she commanded, nudging him with her hip until he shifted aside, his ass half-hanging off as she commandeered his computer. “I’m going to send you the file for our last exam, and we can go through it so you can tell us what we need to focus on.”

Keith sent her a confused look. “How did you get the file for the exam?”

She waved a dismissive hand, eyes glued to the screen. “I know people, don’t ask questions.”

They worked through the exam, going question-by-question with Lance’s reprimands on their abominable grammar sprinkled about alongside plenty of not-so-subtle flirting with Allura. Despite this they managed to get to the end after what felt like an eternity, the three of them sitting back with a sigh of relief when they tied off the last question.

“Dude, I can’t believe all that work we did with your Spanish counted for nothing,” Lance chuckled, looking past Allura—currently spinning herself dizzy in the desk chair Keith had wholly relinquished to her about a half an hour earlier—to Keith lying back on his bed.

Keith rubbed his eyes. “Doesn’t help I can’t understand your accent half the time,” he complained, no real bite to his voice. “Now I can’t tell if I’m hearing Mexican or Cuban or nothing at all.”

“I sincerely hope your doing better in your other courses, Keith, ‘cause this is about as far as I can help you.”

Keith shrugged. “Yeah I’m doing fine. How about you, how’s school going?”

Lance ran a hand through his hair. “Oh man, I mean not bad, I guess? I haven’t flunked out yet, which is about as much as I could ask for,” he laughed. “I’ll be honest, I’m still not used to the drive into Eugene, or carpooling to school with my dad.”

“Wait,” Allura caught the desk in a hand, abruptly halting her spinning. “Eugene, where?”

“Uh, Oregon,” Lance replied hesitantly, “why?”

She lit up, rounding on Keith. “Keith, you never  _ told _ me you were from Oregon!”

He pushed up on his elbows. “You never a—”

She’d already moved on however, turning back to Lance. “You go to U of O then, right? Do you know Professor Smythe?”

Lance lit up in recognition too. “Oh hell no, you know  _ Coran _ ?”

“He’s my uncle!”

“Your uncle?” Keith asked her. “As in the uncle you live with,  _ that _ uncle?” She nodded. 

“Hey, maybe you know my dad then! Professor McClain, he and Coran are hella tight.”

She beamed. “I’ve heard a lot about him; my uncle holds him in very high regard.”

“Keith, how come you never told me Allura lived so close?”

“I-I—how was I supposed to know?” He sputtered.

“Usually you ask,” he patronised, before turning to Allura and stage-whispering, “we did our best but he’s still not very good with people.” Keith picked up a discarded shirt from the floor and lobbed it at the computer, missing by a hair but still managing to make Lance flinch from a thousand miles away. “ _ ¡Oye cálmate _ , Keith!” He laughed.

After a handful of pleasantries were exchanged between Lance and Allura, and promises were made for the two to meet up over the summer, Allura relinquished her seat to Keith, whose cursor hovered over ‘end call.’

“Hey,” Lance said softly, a gentle smile crinkling his eyes once more, “it was great hearing from you, man. Any time you want to call, you know where I am.”

Keith averted his eyes, nodding. “Thanks. It’s good to see you again.”

“Same here.” He paused for a moment, then spoke up again. “It’s probably late for you, so I guess I’ll let you go now.”

_ Wait, stay _ . “Alright.”  _ Don’t go _ . “Talk to you later.” He hung up before he lost the nerve, reminding himself Allura was packing up right there and he thus would have to wait until she left to bury his face in his hands and whine over his heartache.

“Did the two of you have a thing?” She asked suddenly.

He stiffened, spinning to gape at her. She didn’t look back to him, focusing on packing her books into her backpack. “W-who, me and Lance? Not at all.”

She quirked a brow at her bag, unconvinced. “Are you sure? I was sensing something there, I’m positive of it.”

Keith huffed, brushing his bangs back. “You mean between all the ridiculous pick-up lines he was sending your way?”

She smirked. “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

He folded his arms, glaring at a spot on the wall. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, willfully ignoring her real meaning.

“Not of  _ him _ , but nice try.” She snorted.

Reluctantly, he acquiesced. “Alright fine, I had… like a  _ tiny _ crush on him in high school. And we might’ve kissed once. Or, I mean—I guess technically three times, but—”

“Good grief,” she stifled a giggle in a hand. “Nothing gets past me, I told you!”

“They were strictly platonic, though!” He was quick to amend, desperately looking at her to affirm.

_ Buzz buzz! _

“He’s been the one texting you all year, hasn’t he?” She deduced. He gave her a noncommittal grunt, opening his phone.

**[New message: Lance]**

**[Lance:** Dude. Bud. Pal. Keith. **]**

**[Lance:** How would you like to be the best friend in the history of friendship **]**

**[Lance:** And give me Allura’s number **]**

“Is that him right now? Oh, you two would be so cute together!”

He sighed. “Allura, just drop it.”

**[Keith:** No **]**

**[Lance:** Keith this is true love we’re talking about here you can’t stand in the way of TRUE LOVE **]**

**[Keith:** She could--and probably would--literally tear me apart limb from limb for doing that. So no **]**

“What’s he saying?” She cooed.

“He’s asking for your number,” he informed, trying to keep himself from sounding as bitter as he felt.

**[Keith:** I’m giving her yours in case she wants help anyway **]**

“Ah,” she said after a long moment.

**[Lance:** BLESS YOU KEITH **]**

**[Lance:** I knew you were a romantic at heart :* **]**

“Well,” she tried to sound casual, “I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about anything happening between the two of us.”

Keith shrugged, tossing the phone onto his bed, not really in the mood to answer anymore. “I’m over him,” he lied. “If you two want to run off together and have fifty kids, be my guest.”

She pressed her lips into a hard line. “If you need to talk, Keith—”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he insisted. “He’s there, and I’m here now. So… I’m over it. Don’t worry about it.”

“I suppose… if you say so.” She gave him a curt nod. “See you in class?”

“Yep, see you.” He offered a vague attempt at a smile, waiting until she closed the door to slump piteously into his chair, ignoring the muted buzz of his phone buried in his sheets.

* * *

 

March was when the thaw began, mounds of snow melting into puddles that filled the cracks and potholes of every path through campus. Keith eyed it all distastefully from where he lounged back in his desk chair, feet propped up on the windowsill and his computer resting in his lap.

While most students concerned themselves with impending exams, Keith’s concerns were primarily focused on what came after his first year of college was complete. To put it delicately, he had been a bit preoccupied with the stresses and responsibilities that came with moving away to college, and becoming entirely independent, to address the issue of his living situation once the semester ended yet.

To put it honestly, he’d waited until the last minute to figure out where he was actually going to live when housing kicked him out for the summer. And so, instead of studying for his final papers, he was researching one-bedrooms in the general area within his miniscule budget.

It wasn’t going terribly well.

_ Buzz buzz! _

Keith strained to reach his backpack, lying unzipped where he’d tossed it on his bed upon returning from class two hours prior, without having to stand. His fingers brushed against his phone case until he finally managed to grab hold and open the notification.

**[New message: Lance]**

**[Lance:** School is literally killing me **]**

**[Lance:** McClain is McDone **]**

**[Lance:** I can’t wait until this is over and it’s summer again **]**

**[Keith:** Tell me about it **]**

**[Keith:** I’ve got the spanish test a week Tuesday, then two essays due on Thursday and friday **]**

**[Lance:** Hope I’m not distracting u from studying lol **]**

**[Lance:** Lowkey I’ll still bug u even if u are **]**

**[Keith:** Nah I’m leaving it all for the night before **]**

**[Lance:** LMAO TRUE **]**

**[Lance:** So what are u doing now instead of the school work u really should be doing **]**

**[Keith:** Catching up on other shit I procrastinated on **]**

**[Keith:** I’m trying to find an apartment before my ass gets kicked out onto the street at the end of exams **]**

**[Lance:** Ur not just gonna stay on campus? **]**

**[Keith:** Can’t afford it. I need something at less than a thousand a month **]**

**[Lance:** If u were anyone else I’d suggest finding a roommate lmao **]**

**[Lance:** Actually no **]**

**[Lance:** Pidge **]**

**[Lance:** Sucks you can’t room with her I feel like the effect would cancel out **]**

**[Keith:** That won’t work for me **]**

**[Keith:** Rooming with someone, that is **]**

**[Keith:** But I’ll probably find another job too to cover costs, bc I don’t think the bookstore will give me a ton of hours during the summer term **]**

**[Lance:** Makes sense **]**

**[Lance:** Hey maybe when you move into your apartment we can visit! **]**

**[Lance:** A housewarming party for ur first home  <3 **]**

He frowned at that last word, mouthing it as the question Lance’s father posed him last summer echoed in his mind.

_ What is home for me? _

As Mr. McClain had predicted, he’d encountered many a sleepless night in the past school year, cried more frustrated tears than he could ever hope to count, and searched desperately for the answer that would tell him what the fuck this was all for.

The same answer always came to him, but he knew it couldn’t be right. Mr. McClain had looked to his family’s future in America to keep from retreating back to a comfortable mediocrity. Keith couldn’t look for home in the past, couldn’t put the weight of his failures on the shoulders of the people he loved, especially because he knew they would do it in a heartbeat—Shiro and his parents said as much when they’d seen him off at the airport. In the end, he’d barely let them buy him the plane ticket.

Allura had been the closest thing to home Keith had experienced in Pennsylvania. Indeed, for as different from his friends in Oregon as she’d been, she’d been so terribly familiar—she was stubborn, quick-witted, sharp, and most of all unrelenting when it came to Keith. Just like it had been with Hunk, Pidge, and Lance in senior year, Allura was twice as determined to get Keith out of his shell as he was to stay in it. And while the two of them clashed on occasion (far less now than they had at the beginning of the year), he truly did enjoy her company—really, he  _ only _ enjoyed her company, of everyone he’d met at school.

But come April, she’d be leaving for  _ Oregon _ , of all places, and Keith would be alone again, while every person he considered a friend was an entire nation away.

**[Keith:** Lemme find the apartment first **]**

**[Keith:** Then we’ll see if it even has standing room for three more people **]**

**[Lance:** *4. Allura. **]**

**[Keith:** With the size of the apts I’m finding I think even two is pushing it **]**

There were three loud knocks on his door. He half-turned in his chair, hollering “it’s open!” over his shoulder. Predictably, Allura threw the door open, the grin she wore indicating he was either about to hear something really good or really bad.

“We’re going out tonight,” she declared.

So, the latter. “Ugh.” He grimaced, shutting his laptop and tossing it to his bed so he could properly sink pathetically into his chair. “Not tonight, I’m not in the mood.”

Her grin didn’t drop though, and she pulled her purse off from her shoulder and started to dig. “Let me rephrase that. I’m taking you out, and… a-ha!” She pulled her hand out with a flourish, brandishing some sort of form printed out on trifold paper. “And  _ I’m _ DDing.”

Keith went slack-jawed, sitting up. “You passed?”

She grinned proudly, clutching the paper to her chest with both hands. “With flying colours!”

Keith pushed to stand, grinning. “Allura, that’s amazing!” He took a step towards her, wondering for a moment if he should hug her. He decided against it though, deciding to leave himself open but ultimately giving her the choice of whether or not to go for it. “I knew you could do it,” he settled for instead.

She smiled gratefully, then tossed her purse to Keith’s bed. “One of my GSA friends is hosting a little get-together at their house, and I have it on good authority that you were something of a party animal back in high school—what was it Lance called you? You were the king of one thing or another, that was certain.”

Keith snorted, stepping over to his dresser and yanking open the middle drawer. “Depends on what stupid activity he’s trying to goad me into. I’ve heard everything from beer pong king to king of the miracle hangover cure.”

Allura’s hands joined his to rifle through his shirts, sifting through the mess of unfolded tees and crumpled button-downs. “What was the cure?”

“Not getting drunk in the first place. Once when I was fifteen I overdid it at a party and woke up the next morning in literal hell. I vowed never to get drunk again, and I’ve kept that promise for almost four years now.” He held up an old band shirt to inspect, but Allura quickly snatched it out of his hands, clicking her tongue disapprovingly as she stuffed it in a corner.

“After one bad experience?” She pulled out a grey henley he didn’t even know he still had, flattening it against his chest as she appraised it.

He pulled his hands back from the drawer to accommodate her work, attention drifting from the exercise as she switched it for a navy flannel. “Look I basically have zero impulse control  _ sober _ . Drunk me actively tries to rip the fabric of time and space one bad decision at a time.”

She hung the flannel shirt over his shoulder, digging through the drawer anew for something to layer it with. “Alright, well there’s certainly no pressure, but you’re welcome to as much as you want tonight.”

He kneaded his lips together, considering it. Really, tonight was one of his last chances of the year to go out with Allura, before she got caught up in her sophomore course load and her extracurriculars and the excitement of going back home, and forgot about him. She flattened a distressed tee against him, finally giving an approving nod.

“Got anything in your room to pre?” He asked.

* * *

 

… 

There was… a significant gap of unaccounted time missing from Keith’s memory.

The first memory that stuck in his brain was tripping out the passenger’s side of his—er no,  _ Allura’s _ —car, asphalt biting into his bare palms and through the knees of his jeans as he laughed at nothing and everything, arms shaking under his weight to prevent him from collapsing face-first into the ground.

“For crying—Keith!” Allura chided, exasperation increasingly evident as her voice drew nearer. “Wait for me to help you out! Your foot’s stuck in the fucking seat belt, hang on,” she laughed, and he laughed, feeling her hands guide his leg up to untangle it from its trap.

“All better?” He asked, flipping over to drop back on his ass and grin up to her, leaning back on his palms.

She pulled her long locks of hair over one shoulder, shaking her head at him like a disapproving mother as she fought down a smirk of her own. “This was a terrible mistake.” She beckoned him with both hands. “Come on cowboy, let’s get you home.”

… 

“… back soon, so don’t fall asleep, okay?” Allura lectured over his shoulder.

His bed was two steps in front of him—which was convenient, because his head was heavy and his vision was spinning and his legs felt like water and his bed was  _ right there _ . He dove into the soft sheets, bouncing once on the bed and humming into his pillow.

“Keith.”

“Mm?” He was poked in the side, hard, and he squirmed away from the attack, rolling over to his back and pawing lazily at the source. “Stop! ‘M ticklish!” He protested.

“I said  _ don’t _ fall asleep, remember?” She grabbed his hands and he stopped fighting, letting her pull him up to sit. He half-considered going limp as a joke, but her tired frown made him reconsider. “Go brush your teeth and get changed,” she instructed. “I’ll be right back, so do not lock me out. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.” He gave her a mock-salute, almost toppling over with the momentum.

“Repeat it back to me.”

“Brush my teeth, change, don’t fall asleep, don’t lock you out,” he recited, grinning proudly at the end.

She nodded, pulling him up to his feet and ensuring he had his balance before stepping away. “You’re  _ so _ lucky I’m a nice person,” she grumbled uncharitably before walking out the door, leaving it ajar.

He rocked back on his heels, scanning his room for his toiletries bag. The act made him dizzy, and he teetered back to the mattress, landing ass-first on something hard.

“What the…” he mumbled, fumbling underneath him to find what he’d landed on. He located the culprit bulging from his back pocket, pulling out… “my phone!” He cooed, cradling it between both hands as he woke up the screen.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Costco microwave bacon saved my life don’t look @ me. Shiro’s the one who convinced Keith to get a Costco card btw, he always brought Keith shopping bc he needed someone aggressive to drive the cart.
> 
> Listen I highly recommend baby queers (and everyone in general but especially baby queers [or lgbtqiapn2s+]) all take intro to sexuality if they have the ability, I know for me it really helped me understand my identities (or like moreso understand why it’s hard for me to understand lmao). But because I have zero creativity I drew from a very particular experience in that class for Lance’s group chat contribution lmao (the movie’s called Shortbus if anyone’s curious. Obviously INCREDIBLY nsfw)
> 
> Y'all ready for shit to go down? :3c


	2. Hopeless Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Keith: Hey, has Lance been acting weird these past few days?]
> 
> [Keith: I haven’t heard from him and I just wanna make sure everything’s okay]
> 
> [Hunk: Omg that’s right u don’t know]
> 
> [Keith: Know what?]
> 
> [Hunk: Shit, I’m not supposed to tell u]
> 
> Keith’s stomach bottomed out, his worst fears coming alive right before his eyes.
> 
> [Keith: Hunk please]
> 
> [Hunk: I’m trying to find the right way to say this so u don’t panic]
> 
> [Keith: Too late for that!!!]  
> \--  
> Lance takes a chance. Keith finds his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from the Mumford and Sons song. Y'all remember Mumford and Sons? Those wild kids made som fuckin BANGERS with them banjos. What happened 2 them? I feel like I haven't heard from them like since I graduated hs breh...
> 
> The moment y’all’ve been waiting for. Warnings for referenced homo/biphobia, also for lots of gushy romantic shittttt
> 
> I got a bit heavy-handed with the symbolism in a few spots, the tragic result of me being forced to take a French Lit course for one of my majors rip. (Charles Baudelaire?? Homie was a frique js)
> 
> Again, I hope the Spanish I use isn’t like eye-bleedingly awful. Tbh I made the translations hard on myself for this one bc I used a lot of nigh-untranslatable words from my mother tongue in the first draft (bc they were really evocative and it helped me emotionally connect with the work), but I did my best to translate it as smoothly as I could.
> 
> Also I super hope Spanish diminutives work the same way as they do in my language because there is NOT a lot of English-language literature on how diminutives work and thus I’m going off of literally zero academic basis, instead basing this shiz on what I learned at home.
> 
> Anyway all I can say is thank the lort for hyperfocus bless up (for me /and/ Lance, ur two fave ADHDers)

Lance faded into consciousness, rolling over instinctively to check if the sun had come up in the window. It hadn’t, his room still only cast in a cool blue from a distant street lamp. He yawned, shutting his eyes and waiting for sleep to take him again.

He tossed to his left.

He turned to his right.

He pulled the covers over his head, curling up on his side and groaning. Of course at eight in the morning when his alarm went off he’d be incapable of dragging himself out of bed, but now at the asscrack of night he felt totally wired, unable to fall back asleep.

He sighed, throwing the sheets off his shoulder and reaching blindly for his backpack lying on the ground, rifling through its contents. He fished out his headphones, lying back to untangle them in one hand as he grabbed his phone from the night stand with the other, turning it on. 

He’d listen to some music to calm his mind, then he’d try to catch a few more hours of sleep before class. Luckily their test wasn’t until next week for this course, so if he happened to zone out tomorrow, he—

**[Missed call (1)]**

**[Unheard voicemail (1)]**

He frowned at the screen, swiping the second notification open.  _ Who the hell leaves voicemails anymore? And at four in the morning, no less… _

* * *

Lance’s left hand rung tensely against the steering wheel, holding the car on course as he sped down the empty highway, his high beams the only thing lighting the unsure road ahead. He lifted his right hand to still the rosary swinging down from the rearview mirror, running his thumb up-and-down the crucifix in a vain attempt to steady his racing heart.

“God?” He spoke hesitantly into the silence, smiling meekly. “Hey. I-I know we don’t talk that much, and that’s—that’s my bad.” He paused, partly to figure out what to say next, partly waiting for a possible response. “Um… well I mean, people like abuela Elena say You’re not really fond of people like me, but I mean the pope says the Church should accept us, and—” he chuckled nervously. “I’m getting off topic. But hey, what else is new?”

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his smile fading as he bit his lip.

“I’m about to do something really stupid, a-and I don’t really know  _ what _ I’m trying to do, all I know is I have to do it. I just…” he sighed, “if I’m not supposed to do this, then I need a sign.”

He swallowed heavily, expression hardening as he looked out into the oppressive darkness.

“If I’m not meant to go after Keith, then may You Yourself be the one to stop me.” He crossed himself with the right hand, returning it to the steering wheel and staring down the unforgiving highway.

* * *

It wasn’t until three in the afternoon that Lance decided he had to peel himself off the road. He managed to stave off hunger until then with some granola bars he’d stowed away in the glove compartment, and had pulled off to the side of the road twice or so to relieve himself. But after ten hours of doing nothing but stare out the windshield while field after field of nothing zoomed past (Idaho wasn’t famed for its scenery, after all) he needed something under his ass other than the driver’s seat.

He needed a real meal. He needed to stretch his legs. He needed a goddamn enclosed room to pee in.

At the next exit ramp he pulled off, easing the car down the desolate road and breathing a relieved sigh when a cluster of buildings came up on the horizon. The first restaurant he crossed paths with he pulled into, not caring enough to park between the faded lines in his impatience to feel solid ground under his shoes once more. Once parked he kicked his door open, groaning as he stretched, relishing in the chorus of satisfying cracks originating from various joints.

A chime tinkling above Lance’s head announced his entrance to the diner. Lance took his spot in an empty booth by the front window, a couple other patrons sparing him an extra second’s glance before going back to their own food.

Lance found himself scanning the diner idly—the first sight he’d observed since sunrise other than trees and grass and highway. He counted only five other people sitting in front of a meal, each of them looking a lot more the commercial trucker type than himself—maybe it was his lack of a baseball cap, or the fact that each of the other patrons’ biceps was larger than his head.

It made him all the more self-conscious being here, looking as out of place among the patrons as his Corolla did outside, dwarfed by the transport trucks accompanying it in the gravel. Here he was, a kid who’d never left the state without the supervision of a parent or teacher, going out on an impulse in the middle of the night to drive to the other side of the continent, having nearly lacked the foresight to bring a few changes of clothes and—thank God he hadn’t—his prescriptions.

“Hey hon,” a warm voice spoke, drawing Lance’s attention away from the window. He turned around to a young waiter smiling down at him, sliding a plastic menu across the table in front of him. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Water’s fine,” he replied, eyes slipping down to the pin against the waiter’s shirt momentarily, “… Brian, thanks.”

Brian smiled politely, stepping away to fulfil Lance’s request. “I’ll be right back.”

The moment he turned away, Lance fumbled to extract his wallet from his sweatpants’ pocket. He hadn’t even thought to check if he had cash, let alone to pull some from an ATM before leaving. He prayed whatever birthday money he’d saved would be enough to tie him over to Pennsylvania, where gas and food was concerned—his debit card could technically be emergency funds, but he preferred not to leave any means for his family to trace him until he made it to his destination.

He shoved down the guilt at the thought of his family before it could rise. He could deal with that later, but right now he was hungry and exhausted, and he needed to know if he could actually afford more than just the glass of water.

He rested the folded wallet on the menu, steadying himself with a calming breath before he opened it.

“Ten, fifteen, twenty, forty, fif—seventy…” he thought aloud, tallying each bill to get his total before doing a double-check of his mental math.

He had just over two hundred bucks. He’d worry about how that fared him in the long run later, but for now he figured he deserved something indulgent for his troubles, grease be damned.

“There you go,” Brian set an empty cup in front of his menu, pouring from a pitcher of ice water before setting that down on the table too.

Lance pushed his wallet off to the side and busied himself with perusing the menu instead. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Take your time with the menu, by the way. No rush.” Lance nodded, assuming that’d be Brian’s cue to leave, but the waiter leaned his hip into the side of the table, in no obvious hurry to go. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Lance’s fingers—which he’d only just realised had been tapping against the laminated paper—stilled, and he suddenly felt like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, like Brian was in on his scheme and had already called the cops.

But he reconsidered Brian’s tone—it had sounded friendly, like an invitation to conversation—and decided this fear was unfounded. He mounted a friendly smile and looked up to reply.

“That obvious, huh? I’m just passing through on my way, I’ve been driving since sun-up and I needed a break,” he fibbed—he’d actually left long before the sun had risen, but he bet Brian wouldn’t care to get bogged down in the details.

He gave a low whistle. “Where are you headed?”

Lance suddenly felt sheepish. He considered lying again, but again he figured who cares. “Pennsylvania. I’ve got a… a  _ friend _ out there. I’m surprising him with a visit.”

Brian chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Damn, and you’re driving the whole way there? Why not take a plane?”

Lance took a long drink of water, buying himself enough time to come up with an equally logical but less conspicuous reason than ‘I don’t want anyone tracking me because I kind of ran away in the middle of the night, also I technically committed grand theft auto.’ 

_ Come on Lance, you’re a good liar, just say something! _

“He left some of his things,” he replied breezily, setting down the cup, “before he moved out there, so I tossed them into my car and figured ‘hell, why not?’” He shrugged.

Brian laughed. “So you’re a surprise, impromptu mover?”

Lance joined his laughter. “You could say that. He… he thought he’d have to leave it all behind, but y’know,” he paused, before figuring Brian didn’t, in fact, know. “It’s his stuff, and I don’t think he should have to leave it behind.”

_ Subtle, Lance. _

Brian seemed satisfied with the response, pulling a pen from his apron with a twirl, clicking it and pressing it to a notepad he produced from the same place as well. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you. Ready to order, or want me to come back?”

* * *

Lance was too lazy to adjust his car’s dashboard clock to local time as he traversed time zones, but when the display ticked closer to 1 A.M. he decided to pull over for the night. He’d made it all the way to Cheyenne, Wyoming, which must’ve been almost halfway there, or at least it had felt as much. He knew two hundred dollars would be nowhere near enough for him to afford a hotel room on top of his other concerns, so he pulled into the parking lot of a twenty-four hour Walmart to set up camp, banking on the hope that he wouldn’t get towed in the middle of the night, or discovered asleep and defenseless by the wrong kind of person.

He made good use of the superstore’s bathroom, hoping he wouldn’t earn any questions from the other shoppers when he emerged in his pyjamas. He quickly realised, however, that you couldn’t reasonably expect a whole lot from any kind of person who’s in Walmart at 2 A.M. 

Returning to his car, he tossed his old clothes in the trunk, pulled out the blanket stowed away in the emergency kit, and retrieved a forgotten winter coat for his pillow. He made his bed and settled himself in the backseat, fingering the keys in his pants pocket to quadruple-check he still had them, then with a long sigh he reached out between the front seats to retrieve his cellphone from the centre console.

It’d been easy for Lance to ignore his phone because he’d been driving all day. He tried not to use his cell in the car on principle, so it wasn’t too much of an adjustment for him to leave it forgotten and turned off in the cupholder—scanning the radio stations on commercial breaks and when the last one got too far out of range had kept him from getting bored and needing one of his own playlists anyway, he reasoned.

It’d been easy for Lance to ignore his phone because he was busy focusing on the road, on traffic, on the transforming landscape he passed by, and on not accidentally taking a wrong ramp and getting lost. Hell this was a once-in-a-lifetime sort of adventure—he’d never met a single other person who’d up and left in the middle of the night to drive across the country, and for love no less! It’s natural for him to forget his phone when he’s experiencing so much in real life.

It’d been easy for Lance to ignore his phone because… because he knew what was waiting for him when he turned it on. The guilt he’d spent all day repressing seeped deeply into his aching joints as he watched his phone wake up, waiting for the inevitable influx of messages to come.

**[Missed call (57)]**

**[Unheard voicemail (6)]**

**[New text (10)]**

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning—just because he was expecting it, doesn’t mean he was ready for it. He hadn’t vanished without a trace, mind; he’d left a handwritten note on the dinner table that read: 

_ I have to go but I’ll be back. I’ll stay safe, I promise. I’ll call you as soon as I can, in a few days. Please don’t go after me. _

_ -Lance _

But he knew his family better than to believe they’d leave it at that. He dismissed the long string of missed calls immediately, deciding he’d save the voicemails for when his heart felt a little stronger. So he skimmed the texts instead, not venturing to open any of them as his eyes fought off the overpowering need to close after almost twenty-four hours awake. Hunk, Pidge, both of his parents, all of his siblings—damn, even  _ Sonia _ had texted him, the news obviously travelling quicker to her in Florida than Lance had to Wyoming.

But no Keith. He let himself feel the disappointment at that, despite reasoning the poor guy was probably nursing a hangover for the ages. It wasn’t as though he expected to hear from him, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted to, if only to make sure Keith was alright.

He opened the clock app and set an alarm for the morning, sliding the phone into the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat, finally letting sleep take him over.

* * *

“She won’t ever get enough, once she gets a little touch, if I had it my way you know that I’d make her say—!” Lance shimmied along to the infectious electronic beat blasting through the speakers, taking advantage of the liberty—not to mention privacy—of being one of the only cars on the freeway to let loose in the middle of another long day of driving.

His gas tank was full, the late-afternoon sun was shining in the rearview mirror, he was already in Iowa, he’d yet pass a single cop car on the way somehow (which was insanely fortunate because Lance had left the speed limit about three states back,) and dammit he was going to milk this happiness before…

_ Chirp chirp! _

… that happened. The sound was an immediate blow to Lance’s cheer, albeit a small one. He made quick work of muting the ringtone as the radio station transitioned between songs, not even needing to look at the screen to identify the caller.

The day prior had yielded multiple phone calls from all of Lance’s closest friends and family, but the second day of the ordeal they’d all kept their communications text-only. All except one, and of course that one was probably the last person Lance would ever pick up for.

It wasn’t possible for Lance to think about the caller without feeling spite curdle in his stomach. Not because he hated his father, in fact it was quite the opposite. He loved his dad, which made it hurt all the more that he knew he couldn’t talk to him about this. Given that he’d all but forbidden Lance from seeing Keith after the latter had come out as gay, he figured his dad wouldn’t take the news very well if Lance told him he was driving across the country to see him after missing a drunk dial.

He probably hadn’t helped Keith’s case when he’d replied to his father’s concerns with ‘I guess you’re too late dad because I’m already fucking gay,’ followed by an embarrassing backtrack and correction (‘well bisexual, actually—ugh this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.’)

In any case, given their combined track record any sort of unmediated conversation between the two of them would definitely get messy, and end in one—if not both—of them saying something they’d regret. So Lance did them all a favour, ignoring call after call and keeping his eyes focused on the road.

* * *

Outside, it was approaching two in the morning. Lance had just barely snuck past the Indiana border, but he was exhausted and could barely keep his eyes open—a far bigger problem when there really were other cars sharing the highway. He was searching for the next convenient exit, hopefully one where he could find another free parking spot, because he’d almost burned through all his cash for gas and food and he didn’t even think he’d have enough to spare for overnight parking in a city lot.

He had turned the radio off a couple hours ago, satisfied to listen to the hum of the engine beneath him as he passed a silent, sleeping town. His phone hadn’t rung in hours, and Lance wondered if he’d outlasted his father as he scanned the ‘next exit’ information sign, using the feeling in his gut as a metric for whether or not he should pack it in for the night.

_ Chirp chirp! _

_ Chirp chirp! _

Lance ground his teeth, his resolve breaking in his exhaustion. He deftly accepted and put the call on speaker without once taking his eyes off the road, his head swimming as he waited with bated breath for the response.

“Lance?” The desperation in his father’s tone rang through clear as day. “Lance, are you there?”

Lance took a shaky breath. “Hi dad…” He hates the tremor in his voice, hates how it doesn’t sound like him, or feel like it’s coming from his own lips. He ran his hands gently along the steering wheel, trying to ground himself on the feeling beneath his palms. His heart was already racing in the telltale precursor to a breakdown, and he willed himself to just hang on until he could hang up.

There was a weak laugh exhaled on the other end, sounding about halfway to a choked sob. “ _ Gracias a Dios _ , it really is you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I said I’d be okay, and I’m coming back soon.”

“Papito, what’s going on,” his father pleaded. “Where are you?”

Lance squared his shoulders, conjuring up the firmest voice he could muster. “I don’t want to say.”

The other end was silent for a moment. “Please tell me, I want to help you. Whatever happened, I want to know.”

He barked out a cold laugh, not meaning for it to sound as bitter as it did but far from feeling remorse. “Trust me, you really don’t.”

Another hesitation. “I…  _ Lo juro, querido, solo quiero escucharte _ . Whatever this is, we can fix it—”

He snarled. “ _ Stop _ , just—” He blew out a tense exhale, letting his rage temper to mere agitation, his next words clipped. “Stop, dad. All I wanted to say is that I’m fine, and I’ll be back when I’m done so please…” he clenched his jaw, willing his voice to steady, “please just let me do this.”

“Something happened, Lance.” Lance prayed that he was only imagining the quaver he was hearing, but he felt tears welling up in his eyes all the same. “And it scares me because I never saw this coming. I’m your father, and it’s like I don’t know you anymore.”

“And whose fault is that?” Lance snapped, wiping his tears on his sleeve.

“You don’t think I’m trying?” His father bristled. “None of this is easy for me, Lance, I’m not good at talking.”

“Like it’s easy for me? Having to walk on eggshells whenever I’m around you, wanting to be honest when I know—” he bit down a sob on his knuckle—like  _ hell  _ he was going to give his father the satisfaction of his tears “—when I know I can’t.”

“So be honest! If you want to tell me then  _ tell me _ !”

The dam in Lance’s chest burst, waves of anger and sadness and frustration crashing against one another in a torrent of emotion. “Fine!” He shouted, slamming both hands down on the steering wheel. “You really want to know, dad? I’m in love, with a  _ boy _ ,” the admission tasted sour on his tongue, his lips curling. “And I know you think that’s disgusting—”

“ _ Basta _ Lance,  _ please _ ,” his father begged, “I don’t—”

“Yes,” he laughed, cold and humourless, “you do! What, you think I don’t notice? You’re okay with it just as long as you don’t have to see it, as long as it’s not happening in your own house. So yeah, maybe you don’t know me anymore, but don’t you  _ dare _ blame that on me.” His voice was eerily steady as he shouted, the tears falling fast and hot down his cheeks.

Another pregnant silence filled the air between them, long moments spent with only Lance’s sniffles to fill the gaps. He wondered if his father had hung up on him, if he’d gotten tired of hearing Lance talk so openly about something that had become an unspoken taboo in their household. A spiteful part of him held out hope that this was the case. All the better for his rage; might as well get mad at someone who deserved it.

“I’m sorry, papito,” he finally broke the silence in a whisper, sounding more broken than Lance had ever heard him. “I failed you, I wasn’t the father you needed. I’m not like that anymore—”

“Bullshit,” Lance interrupted, feeling oddly brave enough to curse in front of his dad given he didn’t have to look him in the eye. “You’ll never change.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because…” Lance furrowed his brow.  _ Why  _ do _ I think that? _ “Because you don’t want to. You’d rather ignore this problem than have to face it.”

“Do you think I’m a coward?”

Lance stilled a moment. “Wh—no, I’m not saying that.”

“You should. I  _ was  _ a coward, Lance. I was afraid that you would be hurt for being who you are, and I mistakenly thought I could change you to protect you.”

Lance’s fingernails dug into the steering wheel. “I’m not naïve, I knew going into it that people… that I’d face hatred, but that never mattered to me—I never gave a shit about anyone else, all I wanted was for my own parents to love and accept me.”

“We do. I’ve done a lot of thinking, and I… I read some stuff online—” Lance couldn’t help the tiny upward tug of his lips at the thought, an awkward chuckle bubbling in his throat “—so… I think I’m ready to be the dad you really need. Tell me everything, I’m listening.”

Lance sighed, wiping the tears from his cheeks and feeling something akin to embarrassment stirring in his gut. “You don’t have to dad, it’s not a big deal.”

“Clearly it’s big enough that you have to run away from home in the middle of the night because of him. Who is he?”

Lance bit his lip, wondering if this was really the conversation he wanted to be having with his dad. “Keith,” he answered hesitantly.

Relieved laughter rang through from the other end. “Oh thank God, I thought you were caught by one of those… what do you call it? The phishing scams.”

“Phishing… wait, do you mean  _ catfishing _ ?” He chuckled. “Do you think I’m that stupid, that I’d fall for that?”

His father gave an indecisive hum, mulling it over. “Stupid? No, but gullible? Absolutely.”

Lance rolled his eyes in good nature. “I’m a  _ romantic _ , papi. There’s a difference.”

“Still, could you blame me for being worried?”

“Worried that I was duped by a middle-aged man-child into running away from home? Yes. But,” he sighed, “I’ll admit that it was kind of a crappy thing for me to pack up and leave without anyone knowing.”

“So… Keith?” He broached cautiously.

Lance’s smile faded, bittersweetness clawing at his chest. “Yeah,” he breathed, “Keith.”

“ _ Cuéntame _ .”

He pursed his lips. “ _ Qué quieres saber _ ?”

His father scoffed. “It’s not a trick question,  _ cariño _ , whatever you want to tell me.”

He thought it over, pulling himself into the rightmost lane and taking his chances on the next exit ramp. “Well first off, I’m a big dumb idiot for not realising I was in love with him, like, basically from the moment I met him—like, I was still in denial after I freakin’ kissed him, and—” he clamped his mouth shut, his tired brain finally catching up with what he just said.

“What’s—you—” His dad sputtered, before clearing his throat and feigning calm. “Uh… when—when did that happen?”

He groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Dammit, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Look, before you jump to any conclusions, we did it just as friends—hell, I was still straight back then!”

“You— _ huh _ ?”

“I mean, like I thought I was—and  _ he _ thought I was, and—okay, remember Plaxum?”

“Yes,” his father answered immediately, sounding as desperate as Lance felt to straighten this out, as it were.

“Okay so, right before our first date, Keith was being a pal and giving me a ride.” He whined as he realised just how embarrassing this corner he’d painted himself into was going to be. “And I might’ve let it slip that I’d never… kissed anyone, so he was a pal and… showed me how,” his voice lost power with every word, the last coming out as barely a squeak.

The reply was just as hesitant. “Was he… um… straight at the time too? Or…”

Lance couldn’t help but snort, the ridiculousness of it all getting to him. “Nah, he says he’s been gay since, like, the dawn of time, or something.” He leapt to cover the implication, however. “But it wasn’t like  _ that _ , he was just helping me out!”

“How do you know?” He sounded doubtful, but thankfully not hostile.

“He… he liked another guy.”

“You of all people know you can like more than one person at a time, Lance. Case-in-point.”

He eased himself off the highway. “Well, yeah I guess but… I was nothing compared to this guy, dad, he was like a goddamn movie star. After Keith hooked up with him, I knew I’d never have a shot.”

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short, papito,” his father reassured in a way only parents could, “you’ve got plenty of great qualities, and you know looks aren’t everything.”

“Thanks, dad,” he replied drily, “anyway, that’s not the point. I managed to piece together my feelings eventually, but by that time Keith was already committed to leaving, and…” he bit his lip, scanning the street he’d turned onto for a place to park for the night. “I couldn’t tell him. It hurt too much to think of it, to ruin our friendship over some stupid high-school crush when I didn’t have a chance anyway.”

His dad gave a thoughtful hum. “So what’s changed now?”

Lance steeled himself for a quick second, preparing himself for the first time he was going to talk about the reason he was doing this all. “He called me in the middle of the night, but I wasn’t awake so it went to voicemail and… something’s wrong.”

“Is he in danger?”

He shook his head fervently. “No, no,  _ así no _ . He clearly had a bit to drink, and he got really chatty, and…” he sighed, “I think he wishes he could’ve stayed with us, but I mean that’s totally dumb because he could’ve—I don’t know  _ why _ he told himself he had to leave—”

“ _ ¿Cómo tú lo sabes? _ You can’t pretend to understand what’s going through his mind.”

He furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t change fact.”

“No, but it might explain why he felt it necessary to go,” he countered, matter-of-fact.

He mercifully found an opened strip mall parking lot—not too central an area that he worried a lot of people would pass by and potentially spot him, but not so desolate that he feared a man-door-hand-hook-car-door type of scenario—pulling in and scanning for an optimum sleeping space.

“So what’s your plan, Lance?”

He pulled nose-in between an SUV and a cube van, hoping his car would look like just another inconspicuous and unoccupied vehicle in the lot. “ _ No pensé en eso,  _ honestly,” he admitted. He shut off the ignition, bowing his head to the steering wheel and squeezing his eyes shut. “God, I’m going to make a total ass of myself, aren’t I? What am I going to do?”

“You’re a McClain, papito. You’re going to go up to that boy, sweep him off his feet, and win his heart, is what you’re going to do!” He declared proudly.

Lance snorted. “Papi I don’t even know where he is! Colleges are huge, I can’t really bank on stumbling into him, can I? And I can’t ask him because, well first of all it ruins the surprise, and second, like, major stalker alert.”

His father laughed warmly. “Something tells me you don’t have to worry about the second part, Lancito.”

“But then how do I find him?” He threw his head back, glaring at the glowing ‘Used CDs’ store sign he’d parked in front of as if it were the one to blame for this.

“Get creative, you’ll think of something.”

He yawned, pulling his eyes from the sign and reaching to undo his seatbelt. “Hey, you haven’t told anyone I answered, right?”

The apprehension was back in his father’s tone. “No, not yet.”

Guilt rose in his throat like bile, the next word impossibly difficult to pronounce. “Don’t.”

“Lance, we’ve all been worried sick about you, I can’t—”

“Please.” He stilled, focusing all of his energy on convincing his dad. “You can tell them I picked up, and that I’m okay. But please, until all this is over, don’t tell anyone where I’m going. It’s… I’m taking a really big risk, papi, and if it all blows up in my face I’d rather not have everyone be talking about it.”

“I think you have a better chance than you’re letting yourself believe.”

“Well whatever happens, I’ll get there tomorrow, and I’ll call you guys as soon as everything’s sorted out. All I’m asking is a day.”

He gave a resigned sigh. “Okay.”

“ _ Gracias _ , papi,” he breathed, picking up the phone and going to the back seat to get ready for bed. “Okay,  _ voy a dormir ahora _ , tomorrow’s a big day.”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“Uh…” he pulled out his toothbrush and a water bottle, shutting the door with a hip. “Just… motels,” he lied.

“Lance,” he warned.

“Fine, don’t freak out.” He rest the water on the roof of the car and unscrewed the cap of the toothpaste, smearing it against his toothbrush and sticking it in his mouth. “I’ve been sleeping in my car—but it’s totally safe, I promise!”

His dad gave a disappointed groan on the other side. “I’ll wire you some money for the way home.  _ Ay que rico _ Lance, I can’t believe you.”

He laughed. “That’ll help, I’m almost out of cash and I don’t know how much farther I can go on seat cushion change.”

“Make sure you go to the bank first thing tomorrow, so you can use your card,” he instructed. “They might freeze your account if you don’t let them know you left the state.”

Lance took a swig of water and swished it, spitting it out to answer. “Good call.”

“Text me when you wake up.”

Lance climbed into the backseat, tossing his things onto the passenger-front and shimmying out of his jeans. “Yessir.”

“Love you,” he said, softer this time.

He squirmed into his pyjama pants, pulling a hoodie over his head. “Love you too dad, g’nite.”

“Good night.”

Lance hung up, his heart swelling as a heavy weight was lifted off it. He bit his smiling lip, a watery laugh bubbling up from his throat as his vision started to swim. He buried his face in both hands, shoulders shaking equally with sobs and laughter as his spirit soared. 

This was all he could’ve asked from his dad, an awkward heart-to-heart about Lance being a total lovesick fool for the boy of his dreams. To hear those words of encouragement, whether he believed them or not, and know that no matter what happened with Keith, his papi was there for him.

His breathing ultimately steadied out, and a grin felt permanently pinned to his cheeks. He stretched himself sideways along the back bench, pulling the blanket over him and tucking his chin, throwing an arm over his face when the fluorescent glow of the store’s sign shone right in his eyes. His mind wandered as he tried to fall asleep, settling on his unsolved problem of how he was going to find Keith.

_ Get creative _ , his dad had said.

He yawned, shifting so the seatbelt wouldn’t dig so much into his lower back. What the hell did that even mean? It wasn’t like Lance was in a terrifically stimulating place, no less. What, was he supposed to come up with a genius plan through the inspiration offered by a used CD store?

His eyes snapped wide open.

_ Oh. _

He threw the blanket off, snatching his phone from the seat pocket and opening the browser with lethargic fingers, struggling to type ‘Gary Indiana electronic store’ with as few typos as he could manage.

* * *

Keith tapped his pen against his notebook, the page filled with chicken scratch he had no doubt he’d be incapable of deciphering come exam time. He propped his chin up on his other hand, the only thing keeping it from colliding with his desk as he struggled to care about the lecture his History of Astronomy professor delivered.

It had been three days, and Lance still hadn’t texted him.

Keith had woken up the day before yesterday with the mother of all hangovers, feeling like he’d been simultaneously tossed through a centrifuge and hit by a train. But when he’d finally managed to straighten his vision and calm the storm brewing in his stomach, he’d discovered on his phone something a thousand times worse than a bad hangover.

**[Call: Lance McClain (outgoing) 2:57]**

He’d spent the whole day waiting for Lance to text him, or maybe send him a voice note of how much of a drunken, embarrassing asshole he’d been, or something— _ anything _ . But he didn’t, and that was not like the Lance he knew at all.

Keith inevitably spiralled as the minutes, hours, and later days passed, wishing more than anything he could just remember whatever dumb shit he’d told Lance that had caused the radio silence. Of course, he knew he could just apologise and ask Lance what he’d said but…

But he was scared. If  _ Lance _ had gone quiet he must’ve fucked up big time, like admitted that he’d fallen in love with him, and that he thought he could grow up and get over it but he hadn’t and it was actually getting worse the longer he spent away from him, that kind of big time. It didn’t help his trepidation much that Lance hadn’t gone totally silent, since he’d received two three-second black screen snapchats since the call. So Lance definitely hadn’t forgotten him, but he was ghosting him.

He inevitably glanced to his phone, lying innocently on the desk next to his wrist. Discreetly he swiped it off the desk and unlocked it in his lap, opening up his text messenger to reaffirm what he already knew: that there were no new messages. Once assured, he opened up a chat from a few days ago and started typing.

**[Keith:** Hey, has Lance been acting weird these past few days? **]**

**[Keith:** I haven’t heard from him and I just wanna make sure everything’s okay **]**

As Keith contemplated whether or not to claim potential responsibility, he got a response.

**[Hunk:** Omg that’s right u don’t know **]**

**[Keith:** Know what? **]**

**[Hunk:** Shit, I’m not supposed to tell u **]**

Keith’s stomach bottomed out, his worst fears coming alive right before his eyes—he’d admitted his feelings to Lance in a drunken stupor which made him freak out and he’d told Hunk and was avoiding Keith for the rest of his life—this was a total disaster.

**[Keith:** Hunk please **]**

**[Hunk:** I’m trying to find the right way to say this so u don’t panic **]**

**[Keith:** Too late for that!!! **]**

**[Hunk:** K first of all don’t tell Pidge or Shiro bc they’ll kill me if they find out I told u **]**

**[Hunk:** Lance is kinda missing **]**

It took five tries to get a full message typed, his mind stopping and starting halfway through each one.

**[Keith:** What you you mean kinda missing?? **]**

**[Hunk:** He ran away. He left a note a couple days ago and took his car in the middle of the night and he hasn’t answered any of our texts since **]**

**[Keith:** He’s been snapping me **]**

**[Hunk:** Oh no that’s actually me lol **]**

**[Hunk:** Lance and I have a deal that if one of us goes missing, the other has to keep their snap streaks until they come back or the body is found **]**

He slapped a hand to his forehead, wondering if he shouldn’t just pack up and leave the class while he was dealing with this—of course fucking  _ Lance _ would make Hunk promise to keep his snapchat streaks while he was possibly lying dead in a ditch.

**[Hunk:** NOT THAT HE’S DEAD **]**

**[Hunk:** Rob says he talked to him yesterday and that he’s alive **]**

**[Keith:** So he answered calls then? **]**

**[Hunk:** Just the one **]**

**[Keith:** Did he say why he ran away **]**

**[Hunk:** No :/ Pidge and I think it was a school thing. He had a big test the night before he left and we think he couldn’t handle it **]**

His heart sank. Here Lance was helping Keith not totally bomb his first year language requirement, while he himself is having a total crisis over his own grades, and Keith’s so thick he can’t even see his best friend is struggling. Hell, he probably got Keith’s drunk dial in the middle of his clandestine moonlit roadtrip.

**[Keith:** I’m such an asshole **]**

**[Keith:** I didn’t even know **]**

**[Hunk:** Aw don’t blame urself buddy **]**

**[Hunk:** None of us saw it coming and we were all with him right here **]**

**[Keith:** You think he’ll be okay? **]**

A new message appeared on the top of Keith’s screen.

**[Allura:** Keith are u busy right now **]**

He opened it and typed a short reply.

**[Keith:** A little **]**

**[Allura:** Whatever it is drop it. I need you to meet me **]**

Keith huffed—obviously she wouldn’t know, but he couldn’t believe she was asking for something so selfish when much more serious events were transpiring. He opened Hunk’s new message, reading it and typing a quick response.

**[Hunk:** Absolutely. I know my best friend and he’ll be back in no time. We’ll sort this out when he’s ready to open up, and it’ll all work out **]**

**[Keith:** I hope ur right **]**

He toggled back to Allura’s chat.

**[Keith:** Now’s not a good time. Hunk just told me lance went missing **]**

**[Keith:** Plus I’m in class **]**

**[Allura:** WHAT??? U need to tell me everything. I’m on the quad come asap **]**

**[Keith:** Again I’m in class **]**

**[Allura:** Keith this isn’t high school u can just leave whenever u want. This is really important **]**

**[Keith:** What, Lance’s thing or yours? **]**

**[Allura:** YOUR thing obviously!!! Can u stop being so difficult for one second I promise it’ll be better for u to just meet me rn **]**

He did his best to restrain his growl of frustration, shoving his books into his bag and slinging it over one shoulder as he tried to duck out without pissing off the prof.

**[Keith:** Fine I’m coming **]**

He adjusted his bag over his shoulder as he stomped his way out the back door of the building, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie to combat the wind nipping at his bare skin. He wasn’t the kind of person who talked about his feelings, and he thought Allura would’ve figured that out after months of knowing him. All he wanted to do was be alone and figure this out, and maybe curl up in bed for a little bit, not go to the goddamn most crowded spot on campus to have a rap session about his emotions with her.

He rounded the library and the quad came into sight, a much larger crowd than usual gathering there, and he vocalised an unrestrained whine at the sight. As he drew closer he could hear music break through the cacophony of the crowd, but with the solidity of the crowd he couldn’t hope to see the source. Not that he really cared, but it made him wonder what the hell Allura was thinking wanting to meet him  _ here _ to talk about this.

_ Wait, _ his feet stilled,  _ is that… Evanescence? _

He rolled his eyes as the enthused crowd joined the lead singer for the infamed ‘wake me up / wake me up inside,’ pulling out his phone and texting Allura.

**[Keith:** Alright I’m here, where are u **]**

**[Allura:** I don’t see u **]**

**[Allura:** Come into the centre **]**

He wished she was joking, but he knew better than to even waste the time to ask. He brought his hands up and pushed his way into the crowd, not exactly trying to shove, but feeling no remorse when it ended up happening.

He scanned the crowd for her when he reached the front, finding only a circle of familiar but unknown faces all watching… something in the centre.

No wait, some _ one _ .

He took a hesitant step towards the person in the centre. They faced away from him, about ten yards ahead, their cropped brown hair tousled by the odd gust of wind. They stood towards the residence buildings, as still as they could manage but clearly shifting in discomfort as they held up a small boombox over their head, an open backpack spilling CD cases out at their feet. Keith took another step now, clearly breaking off from the crowd.

He recognised that olive-green bomber jacket—knew the timing, their height, the choice of music,  _ everything _ lined up—but it couldn’t be… there was no way in hell it was really…

“Lance?” He called, his voice cracking in his dry throat. Not even the crowd seemed to hear him, much less the intended recipient, so he cupped his hands to his mouth and tried again. “Lance!”

They whipped their head around, eyes wide as they searched for the sound. Keith let his hands drop, the other’s eyes finally freezing on him as Keith’s suspicions were confirmed. Moments felt like eons under that gaze, Keith feeling his legs fossilise beneath him as they stared each other down.

And then Lance smiled, and every fibre of Keith’s being seized up under its weight. Lance let his arms drop, setting the boombox onto the grass with the smallest modicum of delicacy before rushing over to bridge the gap spanning between them. Keith’s mind was still reeling when Lance collided into him. With the numbness in his legs, he figured he would’ve fallen had it not been for Lance’s arms wrapping tightly around his back and holding him up.

“Holy shit,” Lance laughed against his shoulder, the fabric of Keith’s hoodie muffling the words only slightly as Lance pulled one arm out of the embrace, using it to cradle the back of Keith’s head instead, “I can’t believe that actually worked.” 

The ringing in Keith’s ears dissipated, and he registered the near-deafening cheers of their audience. “Lance,” he spoke, bringing his hands to Lance’s sides and pushing him away gently. 

Lance broke the hold, his one hand coming to rest against Keith’s hip, while the other stopped on his shoulder. Keith looked up into those beautiful blue eyes, his fingers coming to grip the bottom of Lance’s jacket to steady himself.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Lance’s smile faded, doubt creasing his brow. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You—you called me, and I thought something was wrong—”

“Lance, I was drunk.” He winced, at the harshness of his own tone as much as the guilt from hearing those words come from Lance himself.

Lance nodded. “I know—I mean, it was pretty obvious,” he snorted, a tiny smirk lifting his lips.

Keith shook his head. “So you had to drive a thousand miles to check up on me? You couldn’t just text me ‘you good’ in the morning?”

He frowned, gripping Keith more firmly. “Keith, the things you were saying—”

“I don’t remember  _ what _ I was saying, I don’t even remember calling you!” Lance stiffened, flinching away for his tone. “Shit,” he backpedalled, bowing his head to watch his fingers tug the fabric, “I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you, I just… you really didn’t have to. Whatever I told you, I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

Lance was silent for a few moments, and a hush had fallen over the crowd too. “You thought we were going to forget about you.” Keith’s hands stilled, and he brought his eyes back up. Lance’s expression was grave, a sadness in his eyes that went beyond shedding tears. “You were scared that we didn’t need you anymore, that we’d all move on and leave you behind.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Judging by your reaction, I’d say you meant it a bit more than you think.”

Keith opened his mouth to protest, but the lie caught in his throat.

“We couldn’t ever forget you, Keith. Trust me, I tried.” He gave a guilty smile. “I want you to know that, because we’ll always be here for you, and you’ll always have a home with us.”

“You drove across the country for  _ this _ ?”  _ For me? _ “Lance, you’re insane!”

He laughed. “No, I’m in love.”

Keith’s mind went blank. He felt like a stiff breeze could knock him over. “Y-you…”

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, eyebrows lifting apologetically as his gaze faltered downwards. “I denied it for a long time, and I was an idiot for not figuring it out until it was too late, but I can’t hide it any longer. I’m not trying to pressure you, but if you’re looking for a reason to come home, let it be me—let it be  _ anyone _ , just come home, Keith. We all miss you.”

He tugged on Lance’s coat to catch his eye again. “You’re in  _ love _ with me?”

Lance shifted on his feet, removing his hand from Keith’s hip to run it through his own hair. “I… yeah.” He grimaced. “Y-you don’t have to, like, love me back, or anything. I didn’t mean—”

Keith tossed his head back, groaning. “Oh my god, are you dumb?” He looked back to Lance, brow furrowed in frustration. “I’ve been in love with you for ages!”

“You—” his grip stiffened, confusion clouding his expression. “ _ What _ ?”

Keith laughed, he couldn’t help it. “I can’t believe this.”

“When did this happen?”

“Uh… when we got assigned to be lab partners.”

Lance’s face pinched incredulously. “Wait, in  _ physics _ ? Keith, that’s the least romantic subject there is!”

Keith quirked a brow, challenging. “What subject  _ is _ romantic?”

“Chemistry, for starters.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Keith snorted. Lance’s demeanour softened as a hand travelled up Keith’s shoulder, long fingers sending shivers through him as they brushed along his neck, finally settling to cup his cheek. “Keith,” he murmured, “can I kiss you?”

It sent a thrill through his body, and he felt his knees go weak as he slid his hands around Lance’s waist. “God, yes.”

His other hand came up to frame Keith’s face, and Keith’s breath hitched. If this was how he was reacting to Lance’s hands, he couldn’t imagine what his lips would do to him. His heart pounded in his ribcage as Lance leaned in, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of Lance’s warm breath fanning across his mouth.

And then Lance went for it.

Keith was lost to the soft press of Lance’s lips, feeling rather than hearing the moan caught in his throat, a loud roar filling his ears in its stead. It started gently, tenderly, Lance pulling back from the first kiss only to start a second. The second was stronger—more insistent—as Lance’s grip shifted, using one hand to tilt Keith’s face to a more amenable position while the other tangled in his hair, fingernails softly scratching his scalp.

Lance pulled away far too soon for Keith’s liking, but he didn’t really mind, knowing there was more where that came from. He reopened his eyes, greeted by Lance’s goofy grin, his thumb stroking Keith’s cheek with affection that reflected in those bright blue eyes.

“Forgot we had an audience,” Lance admitted sheepishly.

Keith’s eyes went wide, pulling back from Lance a tad as he remembered too. He looked to his side, checking for himself if… yep, the crowd was still there, big as ever. He buried his face in the crook of Lance’s neck, trying to hide a rapidly deepening blush. The crowd cheered again as Lance’s arms encircled his shoulders, his laugh reverberating between them both.

* * *

Keith heard his door open, mumbling a distracted greeting to the new arrival as he bent over his desk, ass-deep in an intro to social theory paper. Over his shoulder he heard the thump of something tossed to the floor, and the creak of his paper-thin mattress coinciding with a deep groan from Lance, who Keith could ascertain from the reflection in his screen had just flung himself back onto it.

Lance was in his bed. Keith couldn’t fight the smug smirk the thought prompted.

“God, this is heaven,” Lance raved. “I think I’m in heaven right now—you have no  _ idea _ how nice it is to have an actual mattress under my ass.”

“I don’t even think that would qualify as a mattress—it’s thinner than toilet paper.”

“Hey, I’ll take what I can get after sleeping in a car for half a week.” The sheets rustled. “‘M going to take a nap.”

“Please tell me you’re wearing clothes.”

Lance snorted. “I’ve got a robe, and besides I just showered, how dirty can I be?”

Keith’s fingers stilled, biting his lip at the words that sounded like they were ripped straight from the script of a bad porn. The mental image of Lance naked in his sheets wasn’t helping either, and he felt a distinct burn rise to his cheeks.

Mercifully, however, he wouldn’t be expected to answer, as Lance stirred from behind him, letting out a yawn. “Alright, because I’m a nice guy, I won’t tempt you with thoughts of my delectable body…  _ yet _ ,” he tacked on conspiratorially as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants, obviously unaware that that ship had already sailed.

He stepped up behind Keith once finished, resting a hand against his shoulder and pressing a quick kiss to the crown of his head before retreating to the bed once more, shifting a handful of times before he settled silently.

Peace reigned for a grand total of five minutes before Keith was treated to a prod in his side. He reflexively squirmed away from it, glancing down to the source: Lance’s foot. He twisted around to glare at the culprit, being met by a pout half-obscured by the pillow beneath him.

“I’m lonely,” Lance whined, an unmistakable amusement to his tone.

Keith rubbed a hand to his forehead. “Entertain yourself, Lance. This is due in two days.”

“And I’m gone in one,” Lance countered, “so come over here, I need a snuggle buddy.”

Keith made a show of being put out, tossing his head back and huffing, but gave in immediately. Shutting his laptop, he pushed up off the chair to take the one step necessary to get to the bed. “I can’t believe how corny you are.”

Lance flashed him a self-satisfied grin, holding up the comforter in invitation as he scooched back to the wall. “You know you love it, babe. I call big spoon, bee tee dubs.”

Keith climbed in, turning away from Lance and letting a strong arm pull him towards the warmth. Keith latched onto that arm and tugged it over his side, shutting his eyes as he thread Lance’s fingers through his own, feeling a soft chuckle puff against the back of his neck.

“Is all this sappy bullshit going to be a thing, now?” Keith joked. His good-nature faded when Lance fell silent behind him.

“Uh,” Lance stalled, legs bumping Keith’s as he shifted. “I guess we didn’t really talk about that, did we?”

Keith set his jaw, eyes fluttering open to look down to their entwined fingers. “Do you want to?”

Lance’s arm squeezed him closer against his warm, bare chest. “I think we both agree long distance won’t work.”

Keith drew himself in. “Yeah…”

“But, you’d be open to moving back to Oregon, right?” His quiet voice lilted with hope. “You could always come back on breaks with Allura.”

“Where would I stay?” He murmured.

Lance snorted. “Probably with your parents? They’re always asking me about you, how you’re doing, if you’re okay—Shiro too. Honestly, I think they want you back home more than me.”

“You talk to them?” Keith wondered aloud.

Lance shrugged. “Perks of growing up in a small town: everyone knows everyone.”

“Must be nice.”

He sighed into Keith’s hair. “Why don’t you try it? I mean, maybe it’s a little late to  _ grow up _ , but you’ve still got a lot of life ahead of you, might as well do it in good company.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” he admitted. “They’ve done more than enough for me already.”

Lance groaned. “Yeah, maybe ‘cause they care about you, Keith? They worry about you so bad, you’ll be doing them a  _ favour _ by moving back in.” He paused, evidently reconsidering his tone as it softened when he spoke next. “Look, I get it—like, the whole ‘not wanting to burden the people you love’ thing—but you’re not a burden for wanting to be  _ wanted _ . You know that, right?”

“I-I…” he stuttered, wanting to appease Lance but not knowing if he could in honesty.

“Hey,” Lance called softly. “We’ll work on it, ‘kay? I’m not asking you to change your whole damn self-image in a day babe, just let us help.”

Keith nodded. “Thanks. Should I… like, call them? How exactly do you tell someone you’re moving back with them?”

“Calling them would be a start,” he laughed, the sound cutting off abruptly, though. Lance shot up to sit. “Oh  _ fuck _ .”

“What’s—” he stopped when Lance ripped the sheets off the both of them, trying to launch himself over Keith but getting stuck halfway. Keith was crushed under his weight as a bony hip drove into his stomach, and Lance’s legs kicked in the air around his face, narrowly missing his nose.

“I’ve got to call my parents—oh man, I can’t believe I forgot!”

After some maneuvering the two of them disentangled, deciding the best course of action was (A) for Lance to get a shirt on, and (B) for them to use Keith’s laptop to video call. They stacked a few textbooks to prop his computer up on the bed, the two of them sitting beside each other across from it as they waited for the other end to pick up.

Keith looked down to Lance’s hands, his fingers fiddling in his lap while his expression tried to emulate an air of calm. Seized by a momentary bravery, Keith grasped Lance’s near wrist, giving it a tight squeeze to convey his support as he looked straight ahead once more.

The screen suddenly filled with the image of Lance’s mother and father on their living room couch, and Keith put on his best smile, holding the wrist fast.

Lance’s mother released an elated gasp, letting out a stream of incoherent babbling that Keith couldn’t discern as either English or Spanish for the life of him. Eventually, she was forced to take a breath, and finally Keith picked up what she was saying.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” she warned through a watery grin.

He glanced beside him, catching Lance’s sheepish smile as he bowed his head. “ _ Lo siento _ ,  _ mamá _ , I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

“You weren’t thinking,” she decided.

“Guess I wasn’t,” he agreed.

“Hello Keith,” Lance’s dad greeted pointedly, the others seeming to finally remember his presence.

“Uhh, hi.” He smiled shyly under everyone’s sudden attention.

Lance’s dad turned to Lance then, holding back a grin. “So, do you have something you want to tell us, Lance?”

“Oh. Well…” he sent Keith an unsure glance, peeling Keith’s fingers from around his wrist and taking the hand between the both of his. “Yeah. Keith and I talked, and we…” he trailed off, silently asking Keith what he’d decided.

Keith gave him a reassuring smile. “We’re going to start seeing each other.” Lance’s shoulders relaxed as the tension dissipated from his brow, gripping Keith’s hand tighter as he turned back to the screen.

“We’ll try to make it work with Keith at school here, but he’s going to be coming home for breaks,” he explained.

“It’ll be great to see you again, Keith,” Lance’s mother said, the rest of her sentiment cut short when they heard yelling from someone off-screen.

“ _ ¿Con quién estás hablando _ ?” Came the shout, Lance’s parents suddenly parting like the Red Sea by the force of elderly latina Moses leaning over the couch.

Abuelita’s face lit up in recognition after a short moment. “Lance,  _ abuelito _ —” She clamped her mouth shut, studying their tableau—and Keith’s hand very unsubtly being held in Lance’s lap—more carefully.

Keith glanced out the corner of his eye, trying to follow Lance’s lead on how to proceed. But it would prove to be unnecessary, as she delivered her verdict in confident, albeit slightly cautious English:

“You two finally figure it out,” she decreed, directing her next words to Lance, “ _ te tomó tanto tiempo, que Dios te ayude _ .”

Lance stammered, as his mother gave a scolding “Ma,” in his defence.

Keith looked to Lance for some help, softening his voice. “I’m lost, is she okay with it?”

Lance took a moment to consider this himself, turning back to the screen. “ _ Abuelita _ ,  _ estás bien con _ —” he held up their joined hands momentarily “— _ todo esto _ ?”

She gave him a derisive look. “ _ ¿Crees que sois los primeros _ ?”

Lance laughed, looking more pleasantly surprised than anything else. “She’s on board.”

Keith turned back to the screen, smiling gratefully. “ _ Gracias _ , abuelita.”

She smiled back, retreating off-screen with a wave.

“When are you coming back, Lance?” His mother asked next, readjusting to fill the gap abuelita had left.

He tapped a thumb against Keith’s wrist, contemplating. “It’s obviously too late for me to come back today, but I can’t stay really long, much as I might want to,” he added the last part for Keith, judging by the sly look he gave him. “I guess I’ll leave tomorrow.”

“Where will you be staying tonight?” She asked him.

“He can stay with me,” Keith offered, immediately learning that was the wrong thing to say when both of Lance’s parents stared at him in wide-eyed shock. About a heartbeat-and-a-half later, he realised what they thought he was implying, and rushed to amend it. “N-not like—I didn’t mean—he can sleep on the floor!”

“You’re going to make me sleep on the floor?” Lance asked him, looking thoroughly disappointed at the prospect when Keith flicked his gaze back to him.

Keith shook his head furtively, mouthing a ‘what? No’ before their moment was interrupted by a stern throat-clearing. They both turned guiltily back to the screen, Lance’s mother rubbing a hand into her temple while his father crossed his arms over his chest, looking a tad resigned and more than a little uncomfortable.

“Alright boys,” he announced gravely, shifting in his seat, “now, you’re both adults, and we respect that—”

“Ohhh papi no,” Lance pleaded, relinquishing Keith’s hand to cover his horror-stricken face with both. “Please don’t do this.”

He held up a hand. “No no, I work at a university, I know what you kids are all about at this age. Now Keith, at the front desk of your dorm building there should be a bowl—” Keith paled, and Lance immediately interrupted him.

“We aren’t having this conversation!” He declared, hands over his ears now. “We both know what a condom is, and we both took health class, and you and I’ve already had the talk and I am  _ not _ doing that again.”

His mother shook her head. “Good luck with him, Keith. He’s as stubborn as they come.”

Keith laughed. “I think I can handle him.”

“Alright well if that’s all you guys wanted then I think we’re going to head,” Lance said, composure regained once more. “Keith’s got a paper to write and I’ve got some sleep to catch up on. Love you guys.”

“Love you,” his mother replied, his dad waving as Lance reached over to end the call.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Lance bemoaned, shutting the laptop and carrying it—along with the books—to Keith’s desk.

Keith lay back on his bed, resting his hands against his stomach as he looked up to the ceiling. “I think it’s nice.”

Lance scoffed. “Who’s the corny one now?”

“I’m just saying that out of all the possible ways that could’ve gone, this was one of the better outcomes.” 

Lance gave a noncommittal hum, the bed creaking as he joined Keith once more, rolling over to settle atop his chest, legs tangling together as he rested his elbows on either side of Keith’s face, something mischievous stirring in his eyes. “Hey.”

Keith’s heart started to race, but he kept his tone even, unimpressed, as his hands wandered along the waistband of Lance’s sweatpants. “I’m not going to end up writing that paper, am I?”

The grin Lance sent him was positively conspiratory. “Better go find those condoms, Kogane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original plot for this fic, someone takes a video of their mutual confession on the quad and it goes viral. Pidge says “congrats idiots ur internet famous” and that’s how they find out. I didn’t include it in the end bc it just didn’t work out but if u wanna imagine that happening feel free 2 
> 
> Point of order: I took liberties when it came to questions of fuel consumption and speed on Lance’s trip, because I’m not rly about to sit down for hours and get hung up over logistics when I’m writing this for fun. At the end of the day those things aren’t really significant to the story anyway, so sorry if that irked anyone or if it was unrealistic but like I’d rather concentrate my energy on other parts of the story I do deem importando.
> 
> There was a point of distinction I really wanted to make between Lance/Plaxum and Keith/Lance in this fic, and that distinction was that sacrifice can’t be demanded, only offered. Given his history, Lance would never—in good conscience—ask Plaxum to stay in the States and not join her father, and he thought much of the same at first when Keith was moving: that he couldn’t ask Keith to sacrifice his freedom for Lance. Lance’s sacrifice /to/ Keith ended up being his pride. He allowed himself to be vulnerable to make Keith know he’s loved, and he expects nothing in return from it.
> 
> Anyways thanks 4 coming 2 my Ted Talk about my silly fic, y’all I got u an epilogue too bc I’m Weak like that enjoi ~>


	3. Epilogue - Wherever is Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance turned onto his street, his voice softening. “When are you coming home, again?”
> 
> “A week.”
> 
> “You can’t make it any sooner?” He asked.
> 
> “I’ll try,” Keith murmured. “It’ll go by faster than you think.”
> 
> “I’m holding you to that.”  
> \--  
> Happy ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t /have/ to write this. But like. I had to write this. You get me?
> 
> I always let myself get lazy on the editing for epilogues so b warnd and also hav fun~

The phone hardly made it to its second ring before Lance swiped ‘accept,’ tossing it into the cupholder. “Babe, you won’t  _ believe _ the week I’ve had,” he whined, rolling the stop on his way out of the pool’s parking lot in his haste to go home, “like, if finals weren’t enough bullshit to handle, all my kids at work are getting colds— _ colds _ , Keith! It’s April! And I swear if they get me sick I’m just done, I’m exiting this plane of existence.”

Keith gave him a soft chuckle, his voice tender on the other end. “You on your way home now?”

He hummed his assent. “I’ve got one last exam on Monday, so I’m going to try and cram a bit of studying tonight after I shower—keyword ‘try.’” He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel along to the song playing softly from the radio as he waited for the stoplight he sat at to turn green. “I’ll probably just crash the second I walk in, but hey what else are Sunday nights for?”

“You could probably use the night off,” Keith commented.

Lance smiled fondly. “I could go for that, maybe video call my boyfriend if he’s got the time,” he suggested.

Keith audibly faltered. “O-oh. I… I might be a little busy tonight for that.”

Lance’s smile faded, a resigned sigh escaping him. “I get it, it’s a busy time for all of us. I can spend some quality time with Blue, then.”

“Pidge is right; you’re turning into a cat lady,” Keith teased.

Lance held up his index finger at no one in particular. “Okay first of all don’t trust Pidge, she’ll say anything to slander my absolutely gorgeous image. And second, when you meet Blue you’ll understand why. She’s a charmer, she can make anyone fall in love with her—really, it’s no wonder she found me: we’re one and the same.”

Keith snorted. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet your beautiful daughter, it’s tough being a single parent y’know.” He turned a corner, just a few streets away from home. “But I also worry that those ‘traditional family’ straight people are right, like what if she’s confused by having two daddies and starts to rebel, Keith?”

“She won’t have to worry about that if you call me ‘daddy’ again,” Keith grumbled.

Lance barked out a laugh. “Another tragic victim of the daddy kink; think about how I feel, man—I couldn’t say ‘papi’ in public for the longest time.”

“But I don’t think you’ll have to worry about her and me, to be honest,” Keith said softly.

“What, are you a cat whisperer?” Keith gave a noncommittal hum, and Lance whined. “You’re freakin’ joking, there’s no way you’re a cat whisperer—no one can possibly be that naturally gifted at  _ everything _ they try.”

“Guess we’ll have to see,” he commented vaguely.

Lance turned onto his street, his voice softening. “When are you coming home, again?”

“A week.”

“You can’t make it any sooner?” He asked, pulling into his driveway and shutting off the car.

“I’ll try,” he murmured. “It’ll go by faster than you think.”

“I’m holding you to that.” He pushed the door open, stepping out. He groaned, stretching his back and rolling his shoulders, “finally home.”

“I’ve got to go,” Keith said suddenly.

He gave a disappointed sigh, walking up the front steps. “Alright, then I’ll let you go. Call me whenever, okay?”

“‘Course. Love you.”

“Love you too.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he heard the dial tone, slipping the phone into his back pocket as he tugged the front door open. “I’m home,” he announced to no one in particular, kicking his shoes into the haphazard pile by the front door and tossing his keys towards the bowl set by the front, hoping they landed at least somewhere near it.

“Kitchen,” his mother called back from somewhere, an obvious request to join them.

“ _ ¿Tenemos _ leftovers?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen and freezing when he saw who was there.

Keith leapt to his feet from where he sat at the kitchen table alongside Lance’s parents, smiling shyly. “Hi.”

Lance’s heart soared, and he quickly broke out of his stupor to bridge the distance between them with a crushing embrace. “You’re back,” he breathed.

Keith laughed into his shoulder, returning the hug tenderly. “Sorry I had to end our call, I had someone really important to see.”

Lance put his hands on Keith’s shoulders and pried him off, gripping his t-shirt to keep him close. “You really had me thinking—why didn’t you just say you were coming home early?”

Keith bit his lip to stifle a grin. “I wanted to surprise you. You don’t have a patent over big romantic crap, you know? Oh!” He exclaimed, producing a bouquet Lance hadn’t even noticed from atop the table. “Uh, these are for you. Pidge helped me pick them out.”

Lance removed his hands, allowing Keith to hold the flowers towards him. He grinned, snatching them to immediately shove his nose into them and inhaling deeply. “You just had to one-up me, didn’t you?”

Keith shrugged, feigning innocence. “I also brought takeout—I mean, unless you still want leftovers.”

Lance laughed, leaning over to press a kiss against Keith’s temple as he turned to grab a paper bag from off the table. “Forget what I said before, I could get used to this kind of spoiling.” He spun on his heel to lead them both out the room.

“Lance,” his mother called, stopping him, “we need to put those in a vase.”

“Do we got one?”

She beckoned him with both hands. “ _ Dámelos _ , I’ll find one.”

With a reluctant whine, he handed them over, replacing their weight with Keith’s free hand, tugging him back into motion. “C’mon, I’ve got to get changed.”

“No food upstairs!” His dad scolded.

“We’ll eat it in the living room!” He answered, quickly crossing the house towards it.

“No  _ boyfriends  _ upstairs either!”

Lance huffed, taking the bag from Keith’s hands and setting it on the coffee table. “Be cool, papi, damn!”

Keith dropped his eyes to the floor, blushing. “I can just wait down here—”

“See what you did? You made Keith shy!” He laughed, harder still when Keith shoved his shoulder. “Blue can chaperone if you want,” he joked when his dad appeared in the kitchen’s door frame, leaning against it with his arms folded.

He gave a resigned sigh. “She’s upstairs waiting for you, she’s been fussing since you left.”

He grinned, grabbing Keith’s hand to lead him up. “My favourite gal. Keith, have you met her yet?”

Keith needed to be practically dragged along, his gaze nervously flitting back to the kitchen door. “Yep.”

“And?” Lance tugged impatiently, Keith finally starting to comply as they made it halfway up.

“She loves me,” he replied, confidence edging into his voice.

Lance scoffed, rounding the top railing with Keith a half-step behind. “Figures you’d have animal whispering powers or some shit.”

Keith laughed openly at the assertion, following Lance through the bedroom doorway. “Hardly, I have an awful track record with family pets.”

Lance flicked the light on, letting Keith’s hand drop as he crossed immediately to the bed, where Blue waited, curling up on herself. “Hello beautiful,” he greeted softly, kneeling beside her to run the back of his hand against the smooth white fur on her head. “What sort of track record?” He replied belatedly to Keith, looking back to him curiously.

Keith carefully shut the door behind himself, crossing the room in a few lazy strides and standing over Lance, hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans and gaze distant, idly taking in the subtle differences to Lance’s room from the last time he was there. “When I was about ten years old, my foster family had a German Shepard who hated me on sight. I was only there for nine months but every time she looked at me I swear to God my life flashed before my eyes.”

Lance snorted. “You must’ve done  _ something _ to piss her off, dogs can sense that shit.”

Keith shrugged, gaze falling to the carpet. “Hell if I know. I’m bad with people, I’m bad with animals.”

After pressing a gentle kiss to Blue’s head, he stood in front of Keith, holding his arms out. “Hey, so long as Blue and I love you, I don’t think you’ll need anyone else.” He slid his hands gently around Keith’s waist, ducking his head to catch his eye and offer a warm smile.

Keith finally looked back to him, the faintest hint of a challenging smirk on his face. “You talk a big game, McClain, but we’ve only been dating for a month.”

Lance eagerly rose to the challenge. “I’m a big picture kind of guy, and we both know that’s not the only thing big about me,” he added, leaning in and brandishing a lecherous grin as his arms tightened around Keith.

Keith blew a tiny scoff from between his lips—a wordless  _ ‘wow, get a load of this guy’ _ —pulling his hands out from his pockets to wrap his arms around Lance’s neck. “Oh, I already know all about your  _ massive _ ego.” He flashed an all too self-satisfied grin.

“I changed my mind: go back to school, I don’t want you here.” He immediately contradicted himself, however, by leaning his forehead against Keith’s, shutting his eyes.

Keith clicked his tongue. “Rude, seeing how I paid for dinner.”

“Exactly, ‘paid.’ Past tense. Not needed anymore.” He tried his best to fight off his smile long enough to press his lips to Keith’s.

Kissing Keith, he’d learned since the day they’d exchanged their first, was one of life’s most sublime experiences. Despite his propensity for being rigid and withdrawn, Lance could feel Keith relax into his embrace, stiff muscles easing under his flattened palms as they tentatively explored the skin just below his shirt’s hem. Keith blew a slow exhale through his nose and swept his tongue across Lance’s lower lip. Lance took the invitation eagerly, opening up to deepen the kiss as one of Keith’s hands migrated to his hair.

“Y’smell like pool,” Keith pulled back a fraction of an inch to mumble before shamelessly diving back in, obviously not perturbed enough to stop.

“Sorry,” he’s interrupted by another press of their lips before he gets the chance to elaborate, “haven’t showered.”

“Going to?”

He hummed his dissent, his hands wandering higher up Keith’s back. “Too hungry.”

“Then let’s eat.”

Lance grunted. “Have to change.”

Keith’s hands slid to his chest, pushing him off. He leaned back as Lance tightened his grip in response, laughing whilst turning his head to thwart Lance’s attempts to chase his lips. “Then get changed, dummy.”

Lance did manage to plant a final kiss against the side of Keith’s neck, which he took as his victory, relinquishing his hold to spin on his heel. He pulled his t-shirt over his head as Keith stepped over to the bed, tossing it onto the floor and exchanging it with the one he’d slept in the night before. As he began to work on the front button of his jeans, his gaze flicked over to the bed, where Keith had curled up on his side around the tiny cat perched on the end, lightly smoothing her fur with one hand while watching Lance unabashedly, an elbow propping his head up on the bed giving him an almost lewd air.

“Liking the view?” Lance teased as he kicked the jeans off, snatching his pyjama pants from off the floor and shaking them out.

He grinned lazily. “Can’t say I’m complaining.”

Lance snorted, finishing the task of getting his pyjamas on. “Well keep it in your pants, buster, this is a  _ family _ household.”

Keith scoffed. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

Lance stepped over to the bed, lying himself beside Keith on his back. “I’m a teenage boy, Keith. You can’t have supremely high expectations of me.”

Keith shifted to mirror his position, fingers tentatively brushing against Lance’s on his near side. “But that doesn’t apply to me because..?”

Lance rolled his eyes, as if he were explaining the most obvious thing in the world. “Because you’ve been old, like, since before you were born. Your first word was probably ‘shuffleboard.’”

Keith retracted his hand, and Lance immediately went on retcon duty.

“Aw buddy,” he laughs, curling into Keith’s side and resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder, “don’t be like that. You know I think it’s sexy, how mature and shit you are.” The faintest hint of a smirk crept back on Keith’s face, and Lance draped an arm over his chest. “Hey.”

“Hey what?” Keith retorted, voice failing to fall flat.

“Hey  _ look at me _ ,” he explained, continuing when Keith reluctantly obliged. “I meant what I said before, by the way.”

Keith shifted onto his side, his knee bumping against Lance’s. “You said a lot of things— _ say _ a lot of things, in general.”

“I love you,” he clarified, his heart still skipping at the thrill of saying it, nearly making him forget to continue, “and I want you to know you can depend on me, ‘cause I’ll always be there for you, whether we’ve been together a month or a year or a century.”

He half expects a derisive snort, but he doesn’t get one. “Don’t make promises you’re not sure you can keep, Lance,” he asked softly.

“Have a little faith in me,” he mutters before leaning in to steal a short kiss. “Mark my words, I’m going to marry you someday, Keith.”

Keith doesn’t respond for a long second, eyes still shut from the kiss as his fingers tangled in the front of Lance’s shirt. “Yeah?” He breathed.

“Yeah,” Lance promised, smiling. “You were my first kiss, and dammit if you’re not going to be my last.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy ever afta mofucas, I’m weak as FUC for that shit.
> 
> BTW Lance proposes to Keith at the end of their senior year of college. He repeats his boombox stunt and Keith obviously says yes. It’s super corny and every1 cries hell I’m cryin already.
> 
> I had a super angsty alternate plot for this story and like I’m glad I didn’t go that route because this is a lot better. One thing I do wanna stress is that from the moment Keith and Lance recognised that they were in love, they were destined to end up together. It doesn’t matter which route took them there because once they recognised those qualities in the other that made them fall in love, their relationship was inevitable. Really, this was just the path of least resistance, a confession of fear on Keith’s behalf led to this particular route, but no matter what, the way I see it as the author (and therefore the one in control of this universe *cue evil laughter*) their love isn’t something that was just left up to chance, rather it was something curated over time. And that’s, in my opinion, something a helluva lot more beautiful—not to mention solid—than love by circumstance. If anything, this is love in spite of circumstance, and like dammit if it don’t get me every goddam tiem,,,
> 
> Also since ppl were curious: Plax and Lance stay rly good friends, she becomes a kickass marine biologist and gets married to a beautiful lady in Vancouver and they and the bois become the epitome of mlm/wlw solidarity don’t @ me byyyeee
> 
> Hhhhho boi I can’t believe this fic is done? Thank y’all SO MUCH!!!!!! For bein a part of this journey, especially to the readers who encouraged me at first to keep going with this AU  
> :’) 
> 
> I’m debating between a multichap true-crime AU and a multichap canon-divergence to write next (both klance because I’M WEAK DON’T @ MEEEEEE) so like… I guess I’ll figure that shit out soon? And hopefully have something out in the near future.
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed this fic, and the series as a whole, then please kudo, comment, rec, and/or [reblog on Tumblr!](http://noussommeslessquelettes.tumblr.com/post/168877646761/time-spent-in-los-angeles-chapter-1) Thanks so much for reading, and if you want updates on my newest fics please subscribe to my pseud on AO3!!! ^^


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